Calling Heroes
by Admiral Ten
Summary: Summary: His name was Mark, a name known throughout all of Elibe as the one who singlehandedly ended wars and brought down armies with no casualties. His mind was so brilliant that Bern and Etruria went to war, searching for him. So where exactly did he disappear to? "What do you mean I'm in Askr? There's no such place in Elibe!" Pairings later on.
1. Prologue: Do not come near Ancient Gates

Hello. You may not know this, but I love Fire Emblem. So I decided to try and make one. This was an idea I had playing FE Heroes, so do enjoy. It will have an actual, STRUCTURED plot, unlike The Seventeeners.

Disclaimer: If I owned Fire Emblem, I'd make Batta the final boss.

* * *

Valor, also known as the Dread Isle, is not a fun island to be in. Like its name suggests, it truly is a deathtrap for the reckless and inexperienced, with choppy, unpredictable waves followed by jagged rocks that can breach the hull of any ship. The landscape was littered with emerald trees, the greenest in all of Elibe, yet they house some of the most dangerous animals.

But Fargus has been to Valor once. The middle-aged pirate easily navigated through maelstrom and whirlpool alike, his expertise showing with every obstacle he overcame. Even the furious storm that battered the ship repeatedly with unruly waves couldn't conquer his ship.

The tide started to ebb once Valor came to view. "Land, ho! Captain, Valor is in sight!"

Fargus, his white beard bristling in the winds, stood at the helm, eyeing the island like a hawk. It's been a year since the death of Nergal and the Dragon, and peace settled in Elibe relatively fast. Eliwood had taken over his father's earlier position as Marquess of Lycia, similar to Hector and Ostia. Although they're still coping, Fargus heard that they were already earning the support of the people. But no matter what, the sight of Valor always reminded him of an ear-piercing roar.

A roar befitting of a dragon.

"Right, welcome to Valor! You really owe me for this, Mark."

A man clad in green robes materialized from the door leading below decks. Under his hand was a book entitled: _History of Elibe,_ the author being The Enigma, heartily slapped his back, causing him to lurch forward slightly and the book to nearly slip out.

"Don't hit me so hard, Fargus. You know well enough that I'm not Hector, nor am I Eliwood."

The book was a precious object he came across in the library of Etruria, during his studies after Lundgren fell. He bought the book with the money he earned from Lyn (she told him that he might need it should he find something useful,) although that had him starving for two days straight.

"Can't help it! You really do owe me for this; I've risked life and limb for you only this time!"

Mark chuckled, hand reaching for his robe. "I suppose so, Fargus." From it, a linen bag was produced. He jiggled it one last time to assure its content, before handing it to Fargus.

"The money the Lycian League presented as a reward should be enough, right?"

Fargus' eyes widened, a blank look present on his face. Mark dropped the (actually heavy) bag into his open palm. Fargus pulled the string that sealed the bag just to check that it was actually money and not a pile of rocks.

"I can't possibly hope of making this much in any of my raids!"

"Well, guess you won't need to raid of a while huh?"

The two laughed off their words, stepping down from the wooden plank and onto the docks; although, it can't really be called a dock since there wasn't any other ship. The age-old timber creaked under their weight, threatening to drop the two.

"Fargus," Mark's expression turned serious, his eyes meeting Fargus' ,"if I don't come back out in the next twelve hours, just leave."

To this, Fargus furiously shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Mark. If everyone found out I left you in this island, everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, will either be hunting me down or trying to capture you."

"That's why we left port in the middle of the night," Mark slowly reminded the baffled Fargus, "so that nobody will notice my disappearance."

It was a sound argument; after all, Mark had been travelling all over Elibe, avoiding friends and foe alike to make sure that nobody, and he meant NOBODY, would find him. Bern and Etruria's war was already slowing to a halt, and if anyone should discover his location, then he'd jeopardize the civilians, not to mention his friends.

The friends who would lay down their lives for his sake.

He thrashed the thought. _Don't worry about it. My main goal here is to discover more about Athos' prophecy, not disappear._

"But still-"

"Say no more, Fargus. Just listen; besides, you don't want to keep your crewmen in dangerous waters any longer than needed, would you?"

Fargus grumbled in disapproval, but consented nonetheless. "You better show up, Mark. If you don't, I'll drag you back to my ship if I have to."

"I'll count on you if the need ever arises."

With those words, Fargus returned to the ship, barking out more orders for his crew to follow. Meanwhile, Mark's sights were on the never-ending forests that appear before him.

 _Oh dear, this is going to truly be a chore._

* * *

Mark cursed under his breath, as yet another sharp branch poked his side. He had to admit, the robe presented by Eliwood as a gift was not exactly protective. He wasn't even halfway through before most of his robes were either holed by briars, torn by sharp branches or literally bitten off by the carnivorous squirrels that inhabit Valor.

Yes, carnivorous squirrels. He's sure that it was them who bit off part of his robe. After all, there was no way it could've been him blundering clumsily, stepping and tearing bits of the robe himself.

Mark felt like he was reenacting the scene where the whole company traversed the forests. He chuckled, remembering Serra's humming, which distracted her so much that she got lost by accident. It was Lyn who found her in the end, bringing back the crying bishop into the camp. Even though she was to blame, Erk was the victim of her anger, as usual. His mind immediately wandered off to Lyn.

 _Wonder how Lyn's doing?_

It wasn't surprising to find him often daydreaming about Lyn, as she was the first person he befriended after he woke up in the Sacaean fields. Soon, his mind wandered off to nostalgic territory, about when he first met both Sain and Kent, along with Florina, Wil, and others that became part of his life. A smile curved from the edge of his lips, remembering what Lyn said before the quartet parted ways.

" _We'll see each other again. I believe that our bonds are strong enough to allow us to seek each other without fail."  
_

A spiraling root caught the tactician off-guard, as his outstretched hand tried to break his fall. Although he avoided his face slamming onto a random rock, his hand was pricked by the oddly sharp underbrush of the forest. He sucked in sharply, groaning in pain rather than screaming. Now, he was really regretting not exercising when Hector told him to.

He flapped his hands, allowing air to cool the reddening blot on them. Despite the pain, he continued his march across the forest.

It wasn't long before he came across a certain tombstone. He was quite familiar with it, as he took a knee to view the tombstone. Although it was painted with some moss and a few cracks, the words were still intact:

 _Here lies Uhai, proud warrior of the Djute Tribe._

"This should be the place, then," Mark muttered. He stood back up, gazing at the sun's direction. He nodded to himself, trudging southward till another familiar smudge turned into a tree.

"Turn at the rotted tree… head west. There lies the path of the Dragon's Gate," Mark reiterated Uhai's words from a year ago. True to what Uhai told the whole group, they did find the Dragon's Gate a year ago. It won't be any different now.

As the afternoon sun relentlessly beats on Mark like fish over a fire, he noticed that the familiar view of a stone gate, filled with intricate carvings of the ancient tongue and events that told of The Scouring, was not appearing. He wasn't sure whether he mixed directions by accident or that he was getting delirious.

But in the end, he did breathe out a sigh of relief once the ageing stone came into view.

* * *

What Mark never truly understood was why the interior radiated a green hue. _Doesn't fit the 'Final Challenge' location I've read from books,_ he thought amused, slowly making his way deeper into the room.

Well, it did take some time to climb the flight of stairs, and push the enormous entrance to the gate. Remember, he's just Mark; he's not a Hector.

Cue dramatic sigh, as the actual gate came into view, with no more orange, swirling portal behind it, or any random fire-breathing dragons.

"Now," Mark muttered to himself, removing the book from his robes, "let's see what this book can tell me." He flipped open to the first page, reading the prologue.

 _Once, dragon and men coexisted._

 _They shared a peace forged in wisdom, a peace that lasted many generations._

"You could've fooled me."

 _All that was lost when mankind disrupted this balance in a sudden onslaught._

 _Man fought dragon in a savage war that shook the foundations of their world._

 _This war was called The Scouring._

"I wouldn't have needed to bring this book if not for my inability to read the ancient tongue," he whined silently. His voiced echoed through the empty halls, causing him to shudder in slight fear.

Maybe his fear of dragons hasn't been cured. But once you've come across the legendary power of a dragon, that should be understandable.

 _Defeated and humbled, dragons vanished from the realm._

 _In time, Man rebuilt and spread his dominion across the land and on to the islands beyond._

 _Right, let's see what info I can dig up about prophecies here,_ Mark thought, skimming through the pages with a careful eye.

He halted on a certain page, one that was under the chapter called 'The Founding of Bern.'

 _The wise St. Elimine foresaw slumbering darkness within Hartmut, as he left the Demon Dragon unconscious. Whether it'd be darkness that spread from the Demon Dragon or some human impulse, she was not able to dispel said darkness. Archsage Athos foresaw that the darkness was to be passed to all of Hartmut's descendants, till one would be fully consumed by it._

 _Despite this, Hartmut insisted that it would not be, and thus, we celebrated on the birth of his first child, inside Bern, after The Scouring._

The word darkness struck him like an arrow. _The hero, and most prominent member, infested with darkness?_

He flipped through the pages, yet they yielded no more valuable information. He groans in irritation, deciding that maybe the carvings of the gate would supply him with the answer he needs.

In frustration, the book flew into the opposite direction of the gate. He ran a hand through the carvings, feeling the cold stone permeate his warm skin. They were intricate carvings, those that retell a tale that the book's introduction told. Once again, no valuable information.

But the gate started to glow.

 _Wait, it's not supposed to glow like that, right…?_

The light only grew in size. Mark slowly stepped back, before the doors were thrown open, and a sky-blue vortex started to pull the tactician. Mark turned tail, struggling to get a foothold, leaning his whole body away from the vortex.

 _Goddamn it! I don't want to be stuck with dragons!_

But of course, God seemed to have decided to forsake him. The book whizzed into his direction, smacking his face, causing him to lose valuable footing. He flew into the portal, cursing his horrible luck along the way.

The blue color receded, the only thing left a torn page from the ancient book, and the green light radiating off the walls.

* * *

That's it for now. More to come. When I feel like writing.


	2. Chapter 1: At least Dragons aren't here

Okay, I got chapter 1 here. It's not very long since the preface and prologue chapters are pretty short. When we get to the different worlds, then it's definitely going to be longer. So do wait for that!

Disclaimer: Fire Emblem BELONGED to Shōzō Kaga, and belongs to Nintendo. But if it was me, I'd make Eliwood better in Heroes. Seriously, he sucks in that game.

* * *

Once again, like before, Mark found himself in a foreign land. His eyes blinked open, and as he craned his head up, he was gifted with the sight of… pillars?

He quickly scrambled to his feet, finding the book. He returned it into his cloak, before a thought struck him.

 _SHIT, THE DRAGON'S ARE GONNA SACRIFICE ME IN THEIR TEMPLE!_

Yes, he's still paranoid about that.

His head quickly snapped left and right, trying to find (and escape) any dragon in the vicinity. Instead, he found a familiar redhead.

A very familiar redhead, whose sight made him breathe a sigh of relief. In her hands was a particular looking object. Was it a weapon, an item? Mark didn't know yet.

"Oooh! You're here?" _Isn't that quite obvious,_ was Mark's thought. But he decided to kept silent; he knew that women hate being interrupted, and the axe she was holding on the other hand didn't seem like it'll have trouble cleaving him in two.

"Then the ritual actually worked?"

"Yep," was his short reply.

"O-oh, ahem…" the redhead prepared herself, before standing straight, arms at her side.

"Oh Great Hero from another world! Thou hast come so far to fulfill your role in our legend!"

At those words, Mark couldn't help but swell with some pride. After all, it is nice to be called a hero, especially since he earned that title through actual battles. "For our kingdom now stands on the very brink of ruin, and thou… and thou…"

Her words trailed off.

"Hold on. Are you really our Great Hero? You don't look like the thee-and-thou type."

"Oh shut up!"

Anna was taken aback by his sudden outburst. "Just because I have holes on my expensive cloak, my face caked with dirt and a rather disgusting scent from sweating under Valor's hot sun, doesn't mean I'm no Great Hero!"

"Okay okay," the redhead had her hands held up defensively. "No need to explode suddenly, Great Hero."

"Anyways," he breathed in, calming himself. "Do you know where we are? Why did the Dragon's Gate take me here?"

Before Anna could supply a suitable answer, a shout was heard in the distance. A shout that reminded him of a certain bandit leader.

"FOUND YOU!"

 _Oh God, please tell me that's not Batta the Beast._

Lo and behold, it actually was Batta the Beast, in all his masculine, bandit-y glory.

Then he finally realized.

 _Wait, why the hell is Batta here?!_

"Drat! How did one of those heroes get here already?!" _Hero? You've got to be joking me. Lyn took care of him without much trouble! How the hell is Batta a Hero anyways?!_

"Stand back! I'll take care of him somehow!" Anna brandished her axe, a gold star embedded on the centre of the silver blade.

"It's Batta the Beast, for goodness sake. You'll beat him just fine," Mark muttered under his breath, trying his best not to break down into tears of laughter. Batta, meanwhile, was doing his usual thing; standing there, waiting for the protagonists to talk it out.

Then he finally saw Mark. Let's just say, he didn't look happy.

"You!" He pointed an accusing finger at Mark. Mark's face grew red, as he struggled to hold in his laughter.

"I died because of you and that Sacaean girl!"

"Not my fault you used an axe against a sword," Mark forced out. The tactician was close to just letting out his desire to laugh.

"Now, I will get my revenge! I'll kill you, and make the name Batta the Beast, Leader of the Ganelon Bandits famous once more!"

Peeking at Anna's incredulous expression was the last straw. He broke down laughing, rolling on the ground and allowing tears to stream out of his eyes. Batta's face grew red, as he charged with a war cry.

And then a quick swipe from Anna's axe sent him flying without a second thought.

"N-n-no…"

Batta slowly backed away, before turning around and breaking into a full sprint. He laughed even harder, clutching his hurting stomach.

"Whew! We took care of him."

"That, we did," Mark snorted, still shaken by how hilarious it was that Batta fell for his taunt for a second time. Anna was staring at the 'Great Hero,' whose actions really made her doubt his credibility more.

"Anyways, my name's-"

"Anna," he interjected, finally allowing the laughter to cease. The woman wore a look of surprise as she stared back at Mark.

"How'd you know?"

"What do you mean how'd I know," he was chuckling, moving to try and pat her on the back. But the gleaming axe stopped his advance.

"Keep your distance, love," she smiled sweetly, although the sweetness was obviously fake, "you don't want me to slash you down like I do to my discounts."

"Anna, we know each other."

She kept silent, but her axe remained in its position. The two stared at each other before Anna finally lowered her axe. She had a sheepish expression.

"This is awkward."

"What do you mean?"

"Well," Anna placed her index finger on her chin, trying to think of a proper explanation.

"You met one of my sisters, most likely."

Mark thought she was joking. Naturally, he laughed it off. Then he caught Anna's serious expression. The laughter stopped.

"You're serious, aren't you?"

She nodded. Suddenly, Mark felt tired. He went through an entire forest, just came out through a portal, was out cold for some time, and laughed at Batta for a good minute.

"Don't think too much about it."

"I won't."

"Anyways," Anna straightened up, taking a stance befitting of a soldier. "Let me start over."

"Welcome to the Kingdom of Askr."

"Askr? There's no such place in Elibe!" Then Mark stopped. "Oh wait, we're not in Elibe anymore."

"Yes. Now, you are in the continent of Zenith. I am Anna. I am the Commander of the Order of Heroes. We believe that Heroes should be free. Our enemies, however, enslave them – the fiends."

 _If all Heroes are like Batta, I wouldn't mind,_ Mark smiled at the thought. Anna noticed it, but decided not to ask why. She guessed it was probably something about the Hero they fought earlier.

"This realm has gateways to the worlds where Heroes come from."

He nodded in understanding. It explained how Batta came to be here, but he's not sure if it counts only for the deceased or if the living is counted as well.

"Have you heard of the World of Awakening?"

"Can't say I have."

"How about the World of Birthright? Or the World of Conquest?"

Once again, the tactician denies his knowledge of the worlds.

"There are so many more! However, that Hero was allied with the Emblian Empire, who invades those worlds and binds their Heroes to service."

"So your job is to free those Heroes from their grasp."

"Yep."

However, before Mark could ask more questions, an explosion was seen further away. But the problem was, he can't see where it happened. He just knew it was located on top of a hill.

"Quickly! We must investigate this!"

 _Oh no, not again._

* * *

"First things first, I should probably explain how you got here."

"Yes please, that would be good."

This time, Mark had to quickly sprint through the intricately designed pathway, with Anna in front of him. He was panting heavily, his eyes drooping.

 _Dammit Hector! Don't curse me with exercise like this!_

* * *

"Achoo!"

"Hector dear, are you alright?"

Farina, holding the three-month old Lilina, was looking over Hector who was, surprisingly, doing paperwork. She imagined Mark would have a field day watching Hector struggle with taxes, reforms in the land of Ostia and visits with other nobles.

Nobles who would most likely laugh at his crude etiquette. Sure he may dress well now, with linen clothes, a cravat and shoes with an ankle-strap, but he's still plain old Hector.

"Yes, I'm fine Farina. Don't worry about it."

After the war, Hector wedded Farina under the full moon in Ostian territory. Although one may think that the scene was romantic, it was more of her pegasi dropping her on him, and that they bickered for a good thirty minutes before he confessed.

 _A good move,_ Mark told him. _Doing unpredictable things are sure to make women shut up, or that's what I learned at least._

Hector won't question how Mark knew that, since he probably learned it from a book. Now that he thought about it, what kind of books did Mark read?

Anyways, it was a good thing that Farina loved him back, or else he would've been moping about his brother's death AND losing the love of his life to Dart or something.

"Are you sure? If you get sick, we'll have to spend some money for you."

Hector pinched the bridge of his nose, reminded of how much of a miser his wife was. It brought back memories of when she scammed him 20,000 gold when he hired her.

"You're thinking of the time I scammed you, right?"

"Yep."

"Hector," she whined jokingly, resting her chin on his shoulders. "Don't make Lilina think of her mother as greedy."

"But it's true; you can't blame me for it."

Cue husband-wife arguments, a crying Lilina, and a night of a whole lot of 'sorry's' and 'I love you's.'

* * *

"I summoned you here with the divine Breidablik. That's the name of this relic I've brought." On her hand was that peculiar looking object he saw back inside the temple.

"So it's a relic, huh?"

"Yes. Breidablik fires something out of it, according to legend; however, it's not like any bow I've seen before."

"Let me see."

Anna handed the relic to Mark, who examined it. It was adorned with a white-and-gold design, most of the drawings being from gold. It had a point where there was a hole, where Mark presumed the things that were fired came out from. There was also a part that stuck out like a sore thumb, and a handle for grasping it.

"The legend also calls it 'The True Key,' which, if raised high, will summon the Great Hero that can fire it."

"So that's exactly what you did?"

"You catch on fast. So it's all yours now as well. Hopefully, you can figure out how to-"

"THERE SHE IS! GET HER!"

It didn't take long for a fully rejuvenated Batta to return with more people. This time, he had an Emblian archer as backup.

"Drat. More Emblian Soldiers. That Hero is back again too."

"Please stop calling him Hero. Just call him Batta."

Anna raised her eyebrow, but took note what he had said.

"I can't defeat Batta and the Emblian soldier myself. You're not equipped to help me either."

"What do we do, then?"

"You run while I hold them off. Take Breidablik and get out of here!"

"No! I can help!"

But Anna wasn't having it.

"You can't help! The Breidablik is an important relic, and we cannot afford to lose it and its wielder."

Mark was defiant, and he continued being defiant. "Move then, I'll show you!"

He stood between Batta's gang and Anna. Aiming Breidablik at Batta, he forced Batta to take extra caution.

"Move, and I'll shoot!"

But Batta guffawed in response. "It's not a weapon, you fool! You don't even know how to operate it!"

 _Don't call me a fool Batta. I actually saved Elibe with my strategies._

But Batta had a point; Mark didn't know how to make it work. He trembled a bit, finally realizing how dangerous fighting face-to-face is.

"Now, die!" Batta charged once again, axe poised to kill. Mark, in surprise, took a few steps backward, his finger pulling on the protruding object.

Suddenly, a white light engulfed the empty air in front of them. Out of it, a cyan-haired archer emerged, sat on a chair, a silver bow on his hands. He was dressed like a noble: with a cravat, silk suit and pants, along with gloves.

 _Yep, he looks to be a snobby noble, at best._

"Hnuh? Where am I? Was I not simply enjoying my tea with Cherche?"

The man stood up, craned his neck back to find he had a quiver ready.

"So, it appears I am once again geared for battle."

"Now the odds are even! We can do this, Great Hero!"

"Call me Kiran," Mark responded. _I don't think revealing my identity right now would be a wise thing._

"Yeah, now we can win this, Kiran!"

"Excuse me," the archer approached Mark. "Are you, perchance, a summoner?"

Mark was surprised the archer guessed correctly. "Yes, that's right."

"I suppose that explains why I'm in a new world. I take that… savage," he pointed at Batta, who was getting infuriated waiting for them to finish. "is my opponent?"

"Yes, so please work with Anna and defeat him."

The archer took a good look at Anna before his eyes lit up. "Ah, dearest Anna! How I've missed the sight of your beautiful-"

"My sisters were in Ylisse. You know very well that I'm not the same Anna you speak of. And it's Commander Anna to you."

"How sad," the archer dramatically sighed, a fake-hurt expression apparent on his face. "I hadn't expected anyone to figure it out."

"I know who you are, Elite Archer Virion."

"She knows my name! Your sister must have gushed about my incredibly good looks and refined attitude."

"Actually, she-"

An arrow from the Emblian archer, perched on top of a tree, whizzed past the two, inches from hitting their face.

"Okay, that's it. If you're gonna fight, then let's fight!"

Batta charged at Anna, this time axe raised overhead. However, his advance was quickly stopped short by a shot from Virion's bow. The arrow plunged deep into Batta's right shoulder, forcing him to drop the axe. Anna struck Batta with the blunt tip of her axe, sending him down. The archer took aim, firing a shot straight for Anna. She used the flat side of the axe to intercept it.

Before another arrow could be fired, Virion's arrow had firmly planted itself inside the foot of the Emblian soldier. He lost his footing, falling from his vantage point, dropping to the ground like a rock, face-up.

However, the soldier grunted, struggling to pull an arrow from behind him. As he shakily stood up, Anna was already on him. She twisted her hip, the axe glowing yellow.

"This one's on the house!"

A quick swipe upwards, followed with a downward slash and a horizontal strike dropped the soldier. Only the weakened Batta remained. He was escaping, but a well-aimed shot at his thigh brought him down.

The skirmish easily ended, and the victors surrounded Batta.

"You may have freed me from the bindings of the contract, but I'll-"

"Since when were you a mercenary again, Batta?"

"Actually, Emblian's make Heroes do their bidding through contracts. Basically, since we defeated him, he's now free to do whatever he wants."

"I see." Mark turned around and loomed over him.

"Well Batta, you're free now. Do what you will."

Batta was grunting in pain, but he made an effort to spit on Mark's face. Sadly, it only reached so high before landing on his cheek.

"I'll work with the Emblian Empire, and I WILL destroy you for good," he growled, anger laced in his voice.

"If you say so." He left the hurting Batta, gesturing for Anna and Virion to follow.

* * *

To those who are new to the Fire Emblem Series, Batta the Beast is the most famous bandit leader of the franchise, since he was the first bandit leader veterans defeated. He left some pretty good (and hilarious) memories.

And that's that. I hope you've enjoyed. Next up: Meeting the Generic Prince and the ADHD Princess.


	3. Chapter 2: Glass, fragile as glass?

I'm making a big mistake by writing instead of studying for my exams tomorrow. But dammit, I need to let out some stress! Anyways, here's chapter 3. Took about 3 hours because today, I was loaded with passion.

Replies:

Consort - You want Glass? You get Glass.

Cookie - Fret not, young man! I shall make a gobsmackingly amazing Virion!

The Reality DumPer - If you've played FE for a long time, you'll see that Anna appears just about everywhere, since Anna is supposed to have a ton of sisters. How many? Well... some things are better left unknown.

Disclaimer: I really do wish I own FE. I'm tempted to make a 'League of Villians' starring Batta as the protagonist.

* * *

"You sure it's okay to leave that savage," Virion called out from behind Mark. The beautiful cobble path had been swapped with a dirt path, causing Virion to tread carefully. In fact, he's being too careful; he only took one step every five seconds.

 _We probably could've gotten there 10 minutes earlier if not for this pansy._

"Like I've told Anna before, yes. Also, stop being such a wimp!"

"Young Kiran, you do not have to be so coarse in your language. As a noble, I could very well teach-"

"No."

Mark didn't want anyone training him to be 'refined.' He, Hector and Lyn already went through that torture. The teacher, you might ask? Serra, god knows the most unqualified cleric who's most likely not a noble although she claims to be. Needless to say, the trio despised it so much they didn't change their ways at all.

"If you say so," he shrugged, still trying to not dirty his shoes. Purposely or not, he did annoy Anna to the point where she just straight up carried him, bridal style.

"O-oh, dear me!"

"Virion, we have no time for this! We have to find the crown prince and princesses!"

Mark hid his giggles under his coat. He's sure Virion, with all his ego, wouldn't appreciate the tactician laughing about how embarrassing it is for him.

The trio made their way through the dirt path, with Virion shouting at the top of his lungs to not drop him on the 'unclean, grimy, filthy dirt.' So much for a noble of stature.

"I thought you fought on the Midmire after the Exalt's sacrifice!"

"That, I did," he calmed down slightly. Then he reverted back to a screaming fit. "But my clothes were drenched and soiled! A noble such as I should not need to endure such torture!"

"We get it, Virion."

The whole journey actually lasted half an hour, but it felt like three. How Virion's throat hasn't dried up like a desert, he didn't know. But there was one good thing about his screaming: it signaled the man standing by a wooden outpost.

"Commander Anna!" He was waving at her. Mark was close enough to see that it was a young man, whom had blue hair and a striking golden line running down the left side of his hair. The closer Mark got to him, the more he could make his appearance out: armor that was a combination of white and gold, with brown leather for a strap on his chest and gloves. The leather was woven in with gold as a scabbard for his sword.

"You're all right!"

He made his way towards the trio, although his relieved look quickly contorted to the man in Anna's arms. She quickly dropped Virion, causing the dirt to stain his clothes. As soon as he landed, Virion quickly sprang back up, frantically dusting said dirt off his clothes.

"Ergh! My elegance, tarnished!"

"You must be the Elite Archer Virion! Pleasure to meet you," the man extended his hand, to which Virion gratefully accepts. He then turns his attention to Mark.

"Wait, who is this with you?" He scrutinized Mark's shabby appearance, before his eyes widened. "Could it be…?" the man's voice trailed away, slowly coming into realization who Mark was.

"A hobo?"

Anna hopped excitedly, ignoring Mark's slight sniffle. "It isn't, Prince Alfonse! The legend is true! I raised Breidablik, and then the Great Hero appeared! He's able to use the divine weapon as well!"

"So what else does it do?" Alfonse's curiosity was piqued. But he quickly shook his head.

"This is no place to talk. Let's discuss while we're on the move. I fear the kingdom is in great danger."

"As you say, Prince Alfonse. Wise move, for the one next in line of the throne."

"How'd you guess that, Elite Archer Virion?"

Everyone was on the move once more, including Virion. Alfonse promised a new set of clothing, one that befits his 'position as a Roseanne Royalty' (Mark may have not understood what this meant, but he was pretty sure now that Virion was royalty.)

"A simple inference. You say you're a prince so I naturally assumed."

"Ah. Anyways, tell me more about the Breidablik and it's use."

Anna's hopping evolved to basically jumping. "The Breidablik is amazing! Not only did the Great Hero come out of it, but it also shoots something truly wonderful: Heroes, right out of it!"

"Unbelievable," Alfonse's face was written with amazement. "So you're our… Great Hero, come to us from another world." He was sizing Mark up once more, which started to irritate him.

"Okay, I may look like a shabby, homeless drunkard from one of your pubs," Mark started, with Alfonse, Anna and Virion nodding vigorously. A vein popped on his forehead. "But I, Kiran, am truly the Great Hero you speak of."

"I see. Forgive me for my rude assumption, Great Hero Kiran. I am Alfonse, Prince of Askr and member of the Order of Heroes. A pleasure to meet you," he tries to shake Mark's hand, but it's pretty difficult to shake someone's hand while running. He gave up in the end.

"I'm sorry to ask this of you so soon after we've met, but I have need of your help."

"I know; it's about fighting the Emblian Empire to free Heroes, yes?" Alfonse nodded.

"I see Anna has informed you. Well, I have dire news. The empire has newly taken over the World of Mystery. We need to make our way to the World of Mystery to free it!"

"I see," Mark's face scrunched up, eyes closed for a good second, before he finally nodded.

"All right. Virion, scout ahead, check what enemies are at the area.

"And, Commander Anna, there's one more thing," Alfonse lowered his voice to a hush whisper, leaning to Anna's ear. "I spotted someone odd with the soldiers near here. A strange man. Not imperial soldier, nor a Hero from the World of Mystery now under their control."

Anna gazed over to where Mark was surveying their surroundings. "A strange man, you say? Did he seem allied with the Emblian Empire?"

"I don't know," Alfonse silently admitted. "I've never seen him before. He wears a mask and keeps his face secret from even them."

"To arms!" Virion returned, eyes furrowed and expression grave. "Our opponents are another Hero and two Emblians!"

"Right, let's go!"

* * *

"This has to be some kind of joke."

Once again, Mark found himself facing off against another familiar face. The problem was, Mark forgot who he was.

"That's right, you accursed tactician! I've returned from the dead to exact vengeance!"

"Huh?" Mark's face was painted with confusion. "You're Igor, aren't you? I thought we didn't fight in the end?"

Like Batta, the swordsman with brown hair started to fume. He waved his sword in the air, pointing at Mark.

"I'm Glass! The Gods fear my name! My swordsmanship is peerless! And I've come to this world to serve the Emblian Empire and earn the mighty Mani Katti!"

"Oh, I remember you!" Mark planted his fist in an open palm. "You're the zero-luck guy who got _destroyed_ by Sain after the Gods cursed you and your idiocy!"

Mark didn't expect Glass' face to grow even redder than it could.

"Grr…"

Glass charged Virion, his iron sword poised and ready. He released an arrow, only for Glass to dodge, having it nick only his leather tunic.

"You missed!"

"Must all of our enemies be crude savages," Virion muttered, shooting another arrow. Glass, once again, leaps to the right, the arrow now nicking part of his leather pants.

"Anna, to our north! Make quick work of that spear fighter. Prince Alfonse, dispatch the axe fighter on the southern bridge!"

With a nod, both Askrans went to square off against their respective opponent.

On the cobble bridge, the spear fighter thrusts his iron lance forward, only for Anna to step back, using the flat side to block said thrust. She heaved her axe upwards, parrying the earlier strike. She easily moved forward, axe once again behind her, as she twisted her hips and had the full force of the axe cleave the lance fighter.

Alfonse was doing fine as well; he blocks the downward axe strike, countering with his own downward slash. The Emblian's arm was separated from his body, and he only had time to scream before Alfonse plunged the blade into his heart.

Mark took note of the blade's appearance when Alfonse drew it out of the man's corpse; it's edges are coated in gold, while the grip has a glowing blue crystal. The stones in the hilt burn like white flames.

 _Most likely a similar legendary weapon to Anna's…_

Virion's scream of pain brought him out of his thoughts. The archer was pinned down by Glass' foot, as his iron sword was leveled on Virion's throat.

"Give up, you pathetic noble."

In defiance, Virion drew an arrow from his quiver, swiping at Glass. It may just be the divine retribution he had from trying to sack a temple in his previous life, but the rope that had bind his pants was cut, revealing a pair of white underwear.

Silence from the protagonists and Glass.

…

Of course, it was Mark who broke into a laughing fit first. Virion followed after, along with Anna. Alfonse hid his face on his arm, chuckling lowly. Glass grew even more infuriated.

"How dare you-"

Without another word, Alfonse used the pommel of his blade to strike at the unwary Glass. He dropped to the ground, unconscious.

"…well," Alfonse started, surprised, "that didn't take much."

"His name was Glass, Prince Alfonse. What would you expect?"

The mysterious, manly voice prompted the two melee fighters to brandish their weapons, while Mark assisted the injured Virion.

Out of the other side, a man with a tanned complexion and white hair appears. His face was hidden by a black mask. With a snap of his fingers, Glass was teleported behind his horse.

"Gerome, is that you?" Virion called out.

"I am not the wyvern rider you speak of, Virion," he replied, voice cool as ice. Mark felt a twinge of jealousy rising from within him.

 _WHY CAN'T I HAVE A HOT VOICE LIKE HIS?_

He quickly dismissed that thought; for now, he has a potential enemy in front of him.

"Who are you, stranger?" Anna demanded, axe prepared to take him on. However, the Masked Man retained his silence.

"Alfonse, this must be the masked man you saw!"

He nods in approval. "You! Tell us – are you a soldier in the Emblian Empire," Alfonse pointed an accusing finger at him. Once again, the Masked Man said nothing. "If so, then you stand on the side of evil. The empire shouldn't be entering the worlds of Heroes-let alone conquering them!"

"Oh really?" Was the Masked Man's suave reply. Mark inwardly cursed him. "And I suppose you want us to close the gateways too?

Hmpf. In your dreams."

"How dare you!" But the Masked Man, on top of his dark horse, was clopping away. "Where are you going? Get back here and answer for yourself!"

The Masked Man disappeared, returning back to the direction our protagonists came from. "Damn fellow. He's gone."

"What gateways?"

"Those gateways he mentioned, Kiran… They connect our world to all those where the Heroes live. The royalty of the Askran Kingdom, like Alfonse, have the ability to open these gateways."

"Really Anna? Can't you just close those gateways then?"

"I'm afraid not," was Alfonse's grave reply. "Only royalty of the Emblian Empire are able to close the gateways. Long ago, our two families worked in harmony to open and close these ways to other worlds. But then the Embla began using its power for evil, leaving all of the gates open. The empire began invading those worlds. We cannot slam the gates shut. Only they can."

"We can fight them, however," Anna perked up. "That's why we Askrans formed the Order of Heroes-to stop the Emblians. Now, let's hurry to the World of Mystery."

* * *

"So this is the portal to the World of Mystery," Mark breathed, facing a large, swirling vortex that reminded him of the Dragon's Gate once more. Anna told him to flick the switch on the left side of Breidablik, and shoot while shouting 'Archanea'. Mark did so, and opened up a portal.

"Yes. Prince Alfonse's sister, Princess Sharena, had already entered on a scouting mission. I fear she may be in danger."

"Then what're we waiting for? We have to save her!"

Without hesitation, Alfonse and Anna leapt into the portal. The slightly injured Virion, having his wounds tended to by a healer, stood up shakily.

"I will come along. I know well enough the pain of losing people you care about."

"You sure? Glass did a number on you."

"Fret not, Mark."

With a nod, it was their turn to enter the portal.

* * *

 _Elsewhere…_

"Dammit!"

Fargus' voice could be heard, loud and clear, inside the chamber of the Dragon's Gate. On one hand was a paper he was clutching, rather tightly. A wrinkled, yellowish paper that had an excerpt.

If one looks closely, they can see the words _Foundation of Bern_ written in ink.

"Mark, where did you go…?"

* * *

"Where did I go to now…?"

"The continent of Archanea."

Mark craned his neck to get a good view of his surroundings. He discovered that the area was quite warm, the suns rays penetrating through the thin canopy. A cool breeze sifted through the trees surrounding the area, offsetting the heat.

 _So, in a forest once again…_

"Archanea? Is this not Ylisse?" Virion's expression was rather puzzled. "We're in the Theocracy of Plegia, if memory serves me right."

"Ah, I should probably explain."

Anna gestured at Virion and Mark, prompting them to follow her. Alfonse remained behind, eyes alert for any scouts.

"Virion, Archanea is the old name for Ylisse. The continent, as you know, prospered under the leadership of the Hero-King, Marth. Now, as we enter this world, we should be at a point in time in which Marth has successfully repelled Medeus the Earth Dragon once again, and he as the sole ruler of Archanea."

"Medeus?"

"Read it up at the royal library," Anna muttered, as the group reached the plains. Mountains formed a circular fortress, and in front of them were crumbling walls. Aged as they are, walls are still walls; you can't pass them if they're in the way. But a certain blonde girl was examining said wall.

"Sharena!"

Hearing her name called out, the young woman known as Sharena spun to find her brother, commander and two strangers. They quartet approached her quickly.

"Commander Anna! Brother! What has taken you so long to get to Archanea?"

"Sorry Sharena," Alfonse closed his eyes. "We had to battle our way here."

"Are you okay, brother?! You're not hurt, are you?"

"We're fine. Anyways, meet-"

Alfonse didn't need to finish his sentence before Sharena leapt in front of Virion.

"Is that who I think it is?!" She clasped both Virion's hands. "It is! It's the Elite Archer Virion! Former Duke of Roseanne who reclaimed his land from Walhart the Conqueror, with the help of the Exalt Chrom!"

"Err, yes, that is I, Virion!"

It was actually a funny sight, since you don't often see girls flocking to Virion, much less praising him. It usually ends up similar to how Sully first met Virion.

"And who's this with you?"

Sharena approached Mark like a curious kitten, eyeing him from all angles that made him more than just slightly uncomfortable.

"He looks dirty, and he smells horrible!"

Mark felt an arrow pierce his heart, leaving a clean hole inside it.

"Oh my! You're holding the divine relic... and it's all aglow!"

 _Wait, why the hell is it glowing?! Did I break it?!_

While Mark fumbled trying to turn off the light, Sharena's eyes were dazzling. "Are you...the Great Hero?" Mark ignored her question, now punching Breidablik repeatedly.

"You are the Great Hero, aren't you?! Our group has hoped beyond hope that you might come to save us!"

Mark gave up trying to 'fix' the Breidablik, opting to let it continue shining.

"Please, calm yourself, Sharena," Alfonse's steady voice calmed the excited Sharena. "This is Kiran. As it turns out, the Great Hero is a talented tactician as well. We're already in good hands."

The light in her eyes grew to the point where it's painful to stare at. Like the archer before him, she now clasped his hands. He looked way, partly in embarrassment, the other because her eyes would blind him.

"But...that's amazing. And, Great Hero, you're as great as I imagined. I'm going to be your number-one fan."

Mark internally fist-pumped. _FINALLY! MY OWN FANBASE! TAKE THAT HECTOR, ELIWOOD! I'M FINALLY POPULAR!_

"Oh! My manners have gone right out the window. I'm Sharena, Alfonse's darling little sister." Said sister seems to have a similar set of armor to the other two. However, her weapon of choice was, obviously, similar to the other two. Only this one was a spear.

"Nice to meet you, number-one fan."

"All right, all right..." Alfonse clearly had a look of disdain towards her carefree attitude. "Just tell us, what's the situation here?"

Sharena finally placed a serious expression. "Simply put? Absolutely dreadful. The entire empire has taken control of a Hero from the World of Mystery. She swoops through the skies, a fearsome figure, all in red."

"Sounds dangerous."

"A red flier from Mystery?" Alfonse pondered slightly, before finally coming to a conclusion. "It sounds like Princess Minerva. This battle will be tough."

As soon as he finished his sentence, a green wyvern dive-bombed their location. Mounted on top was a flier, donning red armor and a fearsome axe. She curved towards them, on top of her wyvern, eyeing the Askran nobles.

"Begone, outsiders!"

The group gazed upon the rider, who appeared as a silhouette due to the sun's rays. She took a deep breath, before letting out a thundering voice.

"I am Minerva, Princess of Macedon. Now, I'll warn you once - return to your world. I am bound to serve the Emblian Empire, and the imperial princess, Veronica, has given me an order. She has commanded that I attack a kingdom near her empire. I have no time for the likes of you."

* * *

That's that! Now, I really won't be online. I HAVE TO STUDY. I NEED TO PASS MY EXAMS DAMMIT.


	4. Chapter 3: Minerva, Princess of Macedon

Okay. Yes I know, I haven't updated in forever. Good news was that I had a surprise vacation to Bali, AKA Paradise; bad news? It was a road trip. 11 days away. Well, it's summer so I should upload more. Short chapter for now.

* * *

"Princess Minerva, please hear me out," Alfonse pleaded, although his hand remained on the hilt of his blade. "My name is Prince Alfonse, of the very kingdom you plan to attack."

"I beg you, please put down your weapons. We of Askr have no desire to battle you noble heroes."

"Then why, pray tell, have you arrived in Archanea bearing arms?" she countered questioningly.

"This is to combat the Emblian Empire," Sharena defensively objected, trying her best to defend their cause. "We have to stop them before more Heroes such as yourself fall to their cause!"

Minerva shook her head disapprovingly. "Catria, Palla! To me!"

Two Pegasus Knights surfaced from the mountain, one brandishing a sword Mark had never seen before, and the other carrying a lance that seems rather familiar, although Mark, once again, couldn't tell what it is.

"Princess Minerva, our orders," the viridian-haired Pegasus Knight, dressed in green, brandished her sword. It had a red-cross guard, and a blade that curves to a sharp tip at the end.

"Prepare for battle." The two Pegasus Knights nodded, remaining by her side, with their weapons poised to strike.

She turns to the defenders. "Do you wish to release me of my bindings, Askran Prince?" To this question, Alfonse nodded vigorously. Minerva then pointed to the group.

"There's only one way, and that is to prove yourself superior! Now come!"

"Must we resolve this with a battle, Princess Minerva?" But Alfonse only narrowly dodged Minerva's axe, swiping at his head.

"Prince Alfonse!" Anna rushed to his side, helping the prince stand once more. "She has named her terms. We must fight – and win!" Anna faced the others once more. "Everyone, prepare for battle."

 _Prove superior?_ Mark was at the rear, brows furrowed, finger tapping his forehead. _If it can be taken the way I think it could be…_

"Must it be necessary for us to harm such fine women," Virion remarked absentmindedly, preparing his bow. He, however, squeaked in surprise when a sword nicked his cravat. Virion staggered back, landing squarely on his bottom. It was unnecessary to say that he leapt back up just as fast.

"My silken pants!"

"How dare you insult us, archer?! We are warriors, not cowards who hide behind the backs of men!"

"Oh no, it wasn't an insult," Virion was waving his hands, shaking his head. "You simply reminded me of my wife. Sad to say," he raised his bow. "I will have to shoot you down."

As the arrow flew, most fliers would have been dodging left and right. Minerva, however, cleaved the arrow in two.

"Don't take things half-heartedly, archer. I will kill you where you stand, if I have to."

"Virion, fall back!" Mark was shouting from the rear. "We'll have to pick them off one by one!"

With a nod, Virion retreated backwards. He yelped in surprise as the bluenette swooped down from the skies, lance poised to stab his back. As luck would have it, Anna halted her advance, a long swipe causing her to rear back her Pegasus.

"Don't take your eyes off me!" the green Pegasus Knight phased into battle, a sideward swipe at Anna's direction. The Commander leaned back, her axe clumsily parrying the sword.

"Listen up, you four!" Mark's voice echoed from the rear. "None of you are to inflict major wounds! Bind them should they be defeated! Alfonse, duel Minerva! Sharena, use your shield and tackle the green one down! Virion, keep your aim steady…"

As she was told, Sharena tackled the green Pegasus Knight, her shield connecting with her side.

"Palla!"

Placing her attention on her sister was a bad idea, as Anna's wide swath caused her Pegasus to rear back, dropping its rider to the ground. Said Pegasus, with Palla's Pegasus, flapped off to a safer distance, as the dismounted sisters were defeated.

Minerva was locked in combat with Alfonse, his Fólkvangr was locked with her Hauteclere. Blow after blow was traded, yet Minerva, even with a disadvantage, refused to yield. The scales soon tipped, as an arrow surged forward. With such close proximity, her only choice was to cleave it as before. But she didn't take into consideration the Prince of Askr, who made a run for her back, his blade easily slicing through her armor.

The Princess of Macedon, similar to her knights, was dismounted. However, those wounds started to mend, and she shrugged them off as if nothing happened.

Minerva kept silent, but Mark noted that her face grew darker as the wounds healed. Whistling, her green wyvern came round once more, as she charged towards the man on the rear: Mark.

 _IN THE NAME OF ST. ELIMINE, WHY IS SHE CHARGING AT ME?!_

Of course, Mark blamed lack of exercise once more, as the wyvern easily caught up to him, talons clutching on his shoulder. With Minerva, they rose high onto the air.

"Help me, Virion!"

He wasn't called the 'Elite Archer' for nothing: drawing back his bow, the arrow barely missed the wyvern. A bad miss, one might say, although that was the plan. Startled, the wyvern dropped Mark, as he fell from the skies and into the foliage.

* * *

" _Gah!"_

 _The tactician dropped to the ground once more. He rubbed the bruising side of his arm, his legs shaking as he propped himself up._

" _Are you okay, Mark?"_

" _Dammit, Lyn, did you have to hit so hard?"_

" _I'm sorry, Mark. I didn't mean to."_

 _It was the night before the assault on his temporary stronghold in Castle Caelin. Lyn thought it was a brilliant idea to train Mark on how to fight, in case the rear was attacked during the fight against Marquess Darin. With wooden swords the two sparred._

 _Well, it would've been an apt way to put it if Mark could actually land a hit on her._

" _Too slow!"_

 _Mark once again found himself on the ground, this time gasping for air. A well-placed strike on his abdomen was the cause._

" _Lyn, please! Have some mercy!"_

" _I'm sorry Mark, but your enemies won't be giving any sort of mercy. If you like, we can always stop…"_

 _Mark was silent for a moment._

" _Yes, lets. My body can't take any more hits."_

" _Alright. I'll relight the campfire."_

 _Although all their comrades have fallen fast asleep, Lyn felt no sorts of exhaustion at all. Mark, on the other hand, had his cloak drenched in sweat, panting hard. The silence blanketed the pair before Mark's voice shattered the silence._

" _Lyn, I'm never going to be able to fight like you or Eliwood. I'm just not cut out for it."_

" _Don't beat yourself over it, Mark. You're our tactician. Your job is to guide us to victory."_

 _The crackling fire illuminated his already downcast face. Lyn couldn't help but feel pity for him; the aspiring tactician had wanted to take to the field of battle since the fight with Lundgren, but Wallace convinced him that risking his life so recklessly wouldn't yield any beneficial results._

 _He felt warmth resonating on his shoulder. He grasped it._

" _And my job is to protect you. Never forget that we are partners."_

 _He turns to see Lyn grinning. His frown faded into a small smile._

" _I won't."_

* * *

He blinked once, then twice. Thrice and his vision finally stopped blurring.

He lay face-up, eyes focusing on the emerald canopy, sunlight barely scratching the bottom of the forest. Thick branches that protruded from the trunks had bits of green cloth on them. The earth felt soft below him, mud clinging onto his tattered cloak like a second skin. Cries of the battle outside continually raged on.

 _Now that was a weird memory lapse…_

He sat himself, rubbing his arms and legs as he's done before in Elibe, continuing to survey his environment while doing so. The only odd view he found was the bundle of red hair peeking out from the ferns in front of him.

"Is anyone there?"

The redhead squeaked in surprise, slightly jumping, before facing him. A girl no older than thirteen, with a satin dress and a staff. She raised her staff, as if preparing to whack anyone coming any closer to her

"Stay back! I can fight!"

"Huh, I half-expected stuttering," Mark muttered. He held his hands up, smiling. "Don't worry, I have no chance of defeating you anyways. I'm just a tactician for the Askran army."

Maria lowered her staff. "Oh, I see." Her eyes fell onto his multiple bruises, and his ruined cloak. "You don't look the part of a tactician with those clothes of yours."

 _INSULTED, BY A LITTLE GIRL NO LESS. ST. ELIMINE, DID I OFFEND YOU OR SOMETHING?!_

"A-anyways," Mark coughed, trying to hide his solitary tear, "Why is a girl like you so close to the battlefield?"

"I have to protect my sister, Minerva." was her steadfast reply. Needless to say, Mark was amazed at her determination, despite her small stature.

"Did Minerva actually let you participate?"

"Well, no," she replied sheepishly, "but I had to do something. That princess called you evil when she made a contract with us."

Mark held a questioning look.

"Princess Veronica? The one with ash hair and most likely my age?"

 _Must be an Emblian Princess._

"I've never heard of such a name."

"She placed us all under a contract, having us attack the Kingdom of Askr. Although I've no idea why she would do something so awful."

His mind started to race. _So if we kill Princess Veronica, this war could end? I loathe to kill more people, but if it ends the war, then so be it. The question is where to find her…_

 _But right now, there's an even bigger problem at hand._

Solutions one after the other started to pile inside his mind. But one shone exceptionally bright, and his eyes trailed off to the young princess of Macedon.

"Young princess, I want the fighting to end as much as you do."

"How did you know I was a princess," Maria blurted, taken aback by his knowledge.

"The Prince of Askr told me that Minerva was the Macedonian princess. If you claim to be her sister, then you would obviously have a similar title," he hypothesized.

"What you mentioned earlier was true: I do want the fighting to end. But I cannot allow you to harm my sister."

"That won't be necessary," Mark beamed, a triumphant grin across his face. He approached the young princess, whispering his plan.

Her eyes widened. She faced him with a smile. "If that plan will stop the fighting, then I wouldn't mind pretending to be your hostage."

* * *

Minerva was panting. So were the Askrans. It was a stalemate, and Minerva herself hasn't yielded. Both Pegasus Knights were tied down with ropes, Virion standing as a guard.

"Princess Minerva of Macedon!"

Said princess craned her neck to watch, in horror and shock, her younger sister, dragged by the arm. Mark gave a rather cocky grin, one befitting of what he believed to be a victory.

"Either you surrender now or watch her die."

Minerva's composure remained calm, yet her insides screamed to save her. In such a case, she would have tried to make a beeline at said tactician, but he is still a grown man, with strength capable of taking the life out of Maria.

There was one final solution. She raised her axe high, before she flung it. The velocity was ridiculous; his legs gave way, allowing him to narrowly miss getting split in two.

But Maria was released from his grip.

And she would have ran to her sister if not for Virion aiming at her.

"And that," Mark's laughter trailed off, his paling face washed with color, "marks our victory."

"It seems so," Minerva gritted her teeth; on one hand, she could have her wyvern try to rescue Maria, but an arrow would be much to fast for even her wyvern. Similarly for the other hand, rushing at Virion would do her no good.

"Very well. I surrender."

* * *

The surroundings remained tranquil, despite the battle that raged earlier. In a hastily erected tent by the forest's edge, Mark could hear Prince Alfonse converse with the elder Macedonian Princess. Now free from their bindings, they acted very much kindly, with both Palla and Catria answering the starry-eyed Sharena's questions, while Virion relaxed with Maria, idly chatting about nobility and where they're from.

Anna, meanwhile, busied herself with a messenger that arrived from Askr. Mark's ears were basically separated, one for the messenger and the other for everyone else.

"Well done, Prince Alfonse. You have proved strong enough to break our contract with Veronica. And so, we are free once more."

Minerva shook Alfonse's hand. "I give you my oath that we will not attack your kingdom."

"Thank you, Princess Minerva." _Was that really the best you can come up with,_ Mark lazily thought, his mind drifting back to when Minerva threw Hauteclere at him.

 _So under contract, Heroes are merciless despite being aware of what they're doing…_

With a whistle, her wyvern descended in front of the tent. The Archanean's exited, Mark and the Askran Nobles following behind. Mounting it, with Maria behind her, Minerva gestured for Catria and Palla. Both sisters bid goodbye to Sharena, who's expression was a tad disappointed. "Farewell."

Feathers and scales disappeared from the camp, and all was silent again. Returning into the tent, Alfonse sighed deeply. "That completes this mission, Kiran."

"Yes, good thing all of us are still in one piece."

"You're such an excellent tactician, despite that dirty trick. Why, I think I'm going to be very fond of you," Sharena's eyes seemingly glowed brighter in awe. Mark turned away, partly in embarrassment and partly because he was sure he'd go blind staring into them.

 _Well, taking a prepubescent girl as a hostage was cheap, but at least nobody was fatally wounded…_

"Err, yes. Thank you, Sharena."

But all the cheer disappeared once Anna slammed her fists onto the makeshift wooden table.

"Everyone, listen up. I've just gotten a report that Emblian solders are advancing on our kingdom!"

"What?" Alfonse's face grew horrified.

"Then all of this, here-?"

"It was just a distraction. We've left our kingdom open to attack." Sharena's face mimicked her brothers.

"What's done is done." Anna started to dismember the tent. "Start packing!"

"Done already." Mark gestured to all their belongings, weapons stacked. Nobody had time to be awed.

"Messenger! Relay to the garrison to hold on as long as possible! Now," Anna turned to the others. "Let's make haste. Back to Askr!"

* * *

I haven't been getting any surges of passion yet, so some chapters may seem rather lackluster. I'll update soon to make up for my long hiatus.


	5. Chapter 4: Defense of Askr

It feels really nice to finish chapters as fast as possible for some of you to enjoy. Right now, I feel like I can go on a blitz with this fanfic, so stay tuned for more!

Replies:

MagatsuIza - Of course nobody would. She probably appointed herself, and we all know what happens when she does...

JamesBCrazy - Never really liked Erik's pettiness, but we all love Denning. And yes, Mark/Kiran would definitely go into shock in the 'World of Binding.'

TatsuiChiyo - Boy, the Mark/Lyn ship was my first ever ship. To me, it's now a sacred ritual.

* * *

"Scurry, scurry, little Heroes..."

Askr was a kingdom in the skies. Inaccessible through land, one must either enter the portal leading to Askran soil or launch an aerial assault. In this case, it's the former, as an ashen-haired woman stood with men around her, the fires cleansing just about everything around them. Heroes of all kinds, under her banner, were the perpetrators.

"Steal for me. Spread destruction. Kill all those who stand in your way. This kingdom must fall. Once it's gone, no one will oppose me. Every Hero, in every world - they'll all be mine. Every last one."

But through all the destruction caused by these 'Heroes,' they aren't exactly the protagonists you'd normally see.

"I don't understand it," a certain Lausian grumbled, his hair characterized by a rockabilly look, added with sideburns and a certain vendetta towards two lords from Elibe. "How is that newcomer prince already commander of the vanguard?!" His companion, a hooded sniper with the creepiest golden eyes and an ability for saying only one line, kept silent. He then opened his mouth.

"This is a message from Lord Nergal. I await you on the Dread Isle."

"Denning, is that all you're capable of saying? Repeating it gives a maddening effect to me."

The man, or morph, known as Denning plucked the quiver of his bow. "This is a message from Lord Nergal. I await you on the Dread Isle."

"Forget I asked."

"This is a message from Lord Nergal. I await you-"

"For St. Elimine's sake, stay silent!"

"Is there a problem, Erik?"

The clopping of hooves could be heard, and Erik squeaked in surprise to find the commander of the vanguard (and his superior) behind him. His neck snapped to the voice's direction, giving a salute to him.

"None at all, Prince Xander!"

Crown Prince of Nohr, wielder of the legendary Siegfried, and disciplined to a fault, Prince Xander stood tall and mighty, garnering support and respect throughout their ranks. He faced the destruction caused by the Heroes bound by the contract, face rather displeased.

"I will say, Future Marquess Laus, that I dislike this kind of senseless killing. But my goals align with the young princess; therefore, I shall not question it."

"Denning, are you prepared?" The morph nodded.

"This is a message from Lord Nergal. I await you on the Dread Isle."

"The castle's garrisons are at its last legs. One final push from us, and we shall defeat the Kingdom of Askr. Prepare yourselves. We charge as soon as Princess Veronica gives her orders."

What he didn't expect was for an Emblian to return from the front lines, panting in exhaustion.

"Soldier, a message?"

"Sir!" He saluted Xander, causing Erik's ire to rise, before continuing. "I bear a message from Field Lieutenant Batta the Beast. He requests immediate reinforcements as his left flank was caught off guard!"

"I thought we eradicated their military already…"

"Furthermore, Second Lieutenant Glass has been defeated by Askran soldiers returning from the diversion in Archanea!"

"What? How did they achieve such a feat in a short amount of time?!"

"Rumor goes that they've the Legendary Summoner as an ally, who's intellect far surpasses our expectations. His ability to summon new allies is not to be underestimated as well."

Xander gritted his teeth, his composure still strong. "Send in the bulk of our forces to reinforce Glass! Erik and Denning, you will aid me in rescuing Batta!"

"Understood!"

"This is a message from Lord Nergal. I await you on the Dread Isle."

"Halt, Xander."

The Crown Prince of Nohr, halted, dismounted and bowed. Princess Veronica stepped away from her Emblian retainers. "Take me with you. I am as curious as you are as to why the Askrans haven't surrendered yet.

"But of course, Princess; you need only ask." He helped (or rather, pushed her) onto his horse, which he mounted once more.

"We ride!"

Despite the confidence he exuded, Xander's mind was plagued with thought. _What a strategist. Troops are normally demoralized after such a powerful blow to their country. To rally them all in a short amount of time and turn the tables on two powerful forces…_

 _Just who is this Legendary Summoner?_

* * *

"Well, we managed to clean up the last of them."

On a corpse-strewn battlefield was Mark, with the Askrans, Virion and a newly summoned member.

This member, a green-haired lad that bore a striking resemblance to someone Mark knew back in Elibe, had power beyond his comprehension. That was literally the only word Mark could think of when he the building started to rumble.

* * *

" _Goodness, this place is a mess!"_

 _Upon descending out of the portal from Archanea, the first thing that came to their attention was the thick scent of smoke in the air, followed by unbearable heat that radiated around them. Cries of pain and clanging of steel dominated the surrounding noise._

" _It's a mess, alright," Mark muttered, scanning the area. The portal room may be untouched, but the window by the left gave a rather frightening view for the Askran nobles: flames of the attack that consumed just about everything in their sights, dead bodies littered just about everywhere, and of course, the attack on the castle._

" _Damn it, we have to go, now!"_

" _Hold on, Alfonse." An arm shot out from Mark, grabbing his wrist._

" _Kiran? Unhand me! We have to help them!"_

" _Calm down!"_

 _Mark's voice had been trained over the course of his adventures in Elibe, so it wasn't surprising to learn how loud his voice could get._

" _Rushing in down there might get you killed! You are next in line to the Askran throne, and you have family! Stop trying to recklessly save your soldiers by paying with your life!"_

 _Alfonse's expression was one of pure shock. But as the words sank into him, so did the reality and gravity of the situation._

"… _Yes, of course," he finally said. "Forgive my outburst."_

" _Forgiven and forgotten."_

" _So, do you have a plan, Kiran," Anna's question was barely heard from the chanting of powerful spells that crash unto the doors of the castle._

" _Not yet. For starters, let's proceed downwards. We have to be wary of possible enemies inside the castle."_

 _As he finished his sentence, Breidablik's glow shined even brighter. Mark handled the luminous relic, and out of curiosity, pulled the trigger. Once again, another Hero shot out. A boy, of age not much older than Maria, most likely, yet his hardened eyes did remind him of someone. His dark robes and tome did, at least, inform him of what class he was._

" _What? Where am I?"_

 _The hostile tone his voice took could be identified by about anyone. He turned towards Mark and the Askrans. "Who in blazes are you?"_

 _He started chanting. The tome glowed a purplish light._

" _Stop! We're not your enemies!"_

" _Then who are you?!"_

 _Mark gulped._

 _Don't agitate him, try to wear him down a bit, he thought carefully, his hands open and outstretched._

" _My name is Kiran, and they're my allies. You are in the world of known as Zenith, in the Kingdom of Askr. Thank you for not sucking our life with that Nosferatu tome of yours."_

 _The dark mage scoffed. "Spare me the pleasantries and tell me what you want. I was travelling before this weird light sucked me into this world, and I don't really want to waste time here."_

 _But his question went unanswered as his nostrils filled with smoke, his ears with shouting and cries of pain. From the window, he peeked out to find the exact same view as the Askran nobles. The boy remained silent for a while, before he stated:_

" _Alright, I will help you. Guide my tome to your enemies."_

" _Are you su-"_

" _The orphanage I lived in was also burnt down," he cut, trembling slightly. "My brother and the other kids escaped, but the Father was cut down trying to defend them. I will not let a repeat of that incident happen with the children here."_

" _Wow, that's a noble reason if I've ever heard of one."_

" _Whatever. Now, can you just tell me where the enemies are so we can get to work?"_

" _Yes, of course." He turned to the Askran nobles._

" _Now, we regroup with the garrison commander. A status report and knowledge of the enemy positioning will be all I need."_

* * *

 _The layout of the castle was awfully complex: 7-stories, with the first floor having an arching doorway that's stopped by a steel door. Inside was the carpeted entrance hall and not much else. A great portrait of the Askran Noble family was painted, along with suits of empty armor, but that was it. In the exterior, one could find stables prepared. The second floor consisted of the dining hall, kitchen, infirmary and of course, the throne room, decorated with satin and a grandiose chair that looks really comfortable. The garrison HQ is located her, at the front of the castle. Bathrooms can also be found there and in the floors above._

" _Wait, bathrooms?" Of course, Mark couldn't help but have his curiosity piqued by the area known as the bathroom._

" _Places to bathe and wash away your sins. It's separated by a concrete wall so males and females cannot bathe together."_

" _Huh. That's interesting."_

 _The third floor is where the battlements are located at, along with the armory. Endless corridors adorned with the treasure collected by the Kingdom of Askr were in display, showing off either shine or sparkle._

" _It's also my favorite place to be in," Anna piped in._

 _The fourth floor was reserved for the arts and knowledge: a magnificent library, with thousands upon thousands upon thousands of books, written by different authors from many different worlds. That's not mentioning the Great Music Hall, where instruments of many kinds were placed for the enjoyment of the nobles. A large entrance to the Bell Tower is also located here._

 _Floors five to seven were simply rooms for the multitude of men and women that live here, from servants to guards to the nobles themselves. The higher the floor, the higher your rank. This isn't taking into consideration the many towers of the castle, along with the bridges that are located upon the third, fourth and fifth floors._

 _The Observation Tower, connected to the bridge on the fourth floor, is for the royal astronomer to predict good and bad days for battle, ceremonies and festivities. The Training Tower, located in the east, was where soldiers were conjured up by magic. Accessible by a magic portal inside, stronger opponents lie in the higher stratums. The Order of Heroes had their own tower as well, by the west and filled with only a spiraling staircase to take whoever it was to the top, where a grand emblem, coupled with a long table and many chairs, were placed. The other smaller towers were simply home for servants and soldiers alike._

" _So, the enemy is currently numbered about 1000. Crack troops as well. We counted about 300 Pegasus Knights, 100 knights, 500 infantry, including 100 archers and 100 mages. Their leader is…"_

 _Mark snorted, trying his best not to embarrass himself in front of everyone. The name Batta the Beast was written in ink._

" _Are you positive," Mark tried, between chokes of air and laughter, "that these are 'crack troops' and not some lucky troops?" The garrison commander nodded vigorously._

 _I shouldn't underestimate them then, Mark thought, but it was hilarious to find Batta leading crack troops of all things._

" _On our left flank would be Glass, who's rapidly ascending the Order of Heroes HQ. His numbers are less, about 500, consisting of knights and infantry."_

" _Hnnh, I see."_

" _What now, Kiran?"_

 _The million bullion question, and his answer was:_

" _Simple."_

" _At the moment, we only have three-hundred soldiers, not counting the injured ones. How can it be that simple?!"_

" _Calm, Garrison Commander."_

 _He turned to face the boy. "Err…"_

" _If you must know, the name is Raigh."_

" _Okay, Raigh. As the Order of Heroes' HQ is on tower, only infantry and armored units could actually enter. Take a stronger tome and lead the 50 mages from the garrison with you. Of course, we also need our own armor knights there, about all that's left of them. If it's armor knights, their advance should be painfully slow. Sharena, accompany him. As princess, you can rally your demoralized soldiers to fight."_

" _Next up, Prince Alfonse and Commander Anna. From the 200 soldiers we have left, about a third are mages. Lead them, along with a dispatchment of infantry, to snipe the enemy from the bridge."_

" _And the Pegasus Knights? We'll be vulnerable!"_

 _A victorious grin graced Mark's lips. "Virion, this is where you come in. I count about 60 archers left among us. Put them in groups of 5 and lead them to the many towers. They'll never see it coming."_

" _That's… brilliant! Despite your haggard appearance, you truly are a Great Hero!"_

" _Heh, I know. Wait, what do you mean haggard?!"_

" _Anyways," Mark coughed, trying to ignore that comment. "The rest of the soldiers should hold the gate for as long as possible. Now, begin the counter attack!"_

* * *

" _Do not give in! Keep fighting!"_

 _The loud cheer of every soldier resonated inside the Order of Heroes' HQ. With a hollow centre, attacking from above becomes a powerful advantage. Mages rained down spell after spell on the knights and generals, halting their advance._

" _Do not stop! We can win if we continue fighting! I am Glass, your commander, and I assure you we will-"_

 _A ruin tome cut his speech short as he lay crumpled on the ground, in immense pain. Raigh held said tome in his hand, rather irked._

 _"I swear, every villain I come across that isn't Zephiel or Idunn talks too much."_

 _Sharena's rallying cry was already at its zenith. Within minutes of excessive attacking, all the armor knights lay either dead or dying._

 _But there was no taking into account the rest of the soldiers that arrived. Cavalry soldiers that dismounted, rushing up the staircase in a frenzy._

 _"Curses, reinforcements!"_

 _"Tsk, do these people have any hint of common sense within them?"_

 _Sharena's throat was drying, and the mages were exhausted. The knights could hold them off, but not repel them. It was only a matter of time before Raigh sighed._

 _"I'm going to regret this stupid move," he muttered lowly, bringing out a tome from inside his robes._

 _"Well, Niime. Let's see whether I truly am ready to wield this tome."_

 _The building started to rumble. The air grew heavy. Thunder crackled._

 _"With the strength of the endless dark, Apocalypse! Sunder my enemy's soul from this world!"_

 _At that moment, Sharena truly understood why he was known as Raigh, the Dark Child._

* * *

" _That's right, continue your assault! Do not give the Emblian's any quarter!"_

 _The bridge was rather hectic as well: magic flew in all directions as the mages sent spell after spell down on the attackers. Pegasus Knights occasionally came to take a mages life or two, before getting defeated by the infantry. In panic their attack stopped as well._

" _Pegasus Knights! Where are they?! Why are they not attacking them?!" Desperation laced Batta's voice, as he turned left and right to find his soldiers being burnt, electrocuted, suffocated or sliced by wind. In panic he stared at the sky, only to find a Pegasus falling from the sky._

" _But there are only mages, aren't there?!"_

* * *

" _You savage barbarian. If only you knew…"_

 _Virion has had the easiest time with his group. Pegasus Knights one after the other dropped like flies to their arrows. In no time, fliers were cleared out of the skies of Askr._

" _This plan is proceeding much better than I originally anticipated," he mused, the thick Roseanne accent apparent._

" _What are our next orders, Commander Virion?"_

" _Commander? That has a nice ring to it…"_

" _Very well! With my magnificence, our next orders are to be that we snipe the remainder of our enemies from the towers! Relay my message to the rest!"_

 _I definitely see some Robin within him, Virion amusedly thought, taking a spear fighter down with perfect aim. Should he summon Robin, I could imagine the tactics they'd come up with…_

* * *

"What's next," was the tired question that came out of Alfonse's lips.

"Let the soldiers have a well-deserved rest. You, me, Sharena, and Anna will survey the field. Virion and Raigh, you are to remain inside the castle to defend."

"But of course! My perfect aim will reach true to their target, even if I remain here!"

"Tsk, they're weak. I expected more."

With that, both left to stay in the garrison HQ.

"Now, let's get started." Whistling, another man suddenly appears, shocking Sharena and prompting Alfonse and Anna to draw their weapons.

"W-whoa, stay your sword arm! I am simply a spy for Kiran!"

That's when Sharena snapped back to attention.

"Wait, you're the Faithful Spy, Matthew!" She rushed to clasp his hand, shaking it with extreme zeal. "I know all about you! In service to House Ostia as a spy for the young lord, Hector, the Marquess Ostia!"

"Uh…"

"Don't worry, Matthew, she knows all about us."

"You too, Ma- er, Kiran?"

"Yes, even I," Mark huffed through gritted teeth. "Now, can you all scout ahead? I have another task to assign to Matthew."

They nodded, leaving the two. Once they're gone, however…

"Dammit Matt, are you trying to blow my cover?"

"You can't blame me, Mark! I come into a strange world an hour ago and you're here, posing as a tactician with a different name!"

* * *

" _Huh, Breidablik is still glowing…"_

 _Inside an empty garrison HQ, Mark examined the relic even closer. It's luminosity hasn't dimmed in the slightest, and from what he could tell, it had no intention of dying down._

" _Maybe if I pull the trigger once more…"_

 _So he did. With a click, another light shot out, revealing a Hero with auburn hair and a red scarf. On his hand was a steel dagger._

" _Ouch… I thought I was hiding by the roof of the young master's bedroom, watching him and madam Farina argue."_

 _He rubbed the back of his neck, turned around, and started to gape. Mark followed suit, ensuing a moment of silence before the Hero broke it._

" _Is… is that you, Mark?"_

" _Matthew?"_

" _Wow, it really is you, Mark! Where have you been? Fargus came to the Young Master's castle informing of your disappearance. Everyone in Elibe is even more desperate for you now!"_

" _For your information, I was stuck here."_

 _Mark proceeded to retell the tale of what happened to him during his stay in Zenith._

" _Wow, so a Great Hero, huh… I'm not surprised; knowing you, it wouldn't be hard to believe."_

 _Mark swelled with pride, before deflating from Matthew's next words._

" _But why do you look and smell like a hobo?"_

" _Sh-shut up! The Dread Isle wasn't exactly a good place to travel in with robes!"_

" _I kid, I kid. So now you summoned me here, what's the occasion?"_

" _Well, the Breidablik randomly summons a Hero, so I'm not sure. But I can use your help about now."_

" _No worries! Guide me like you've done back in Elibe."_

" _With pleasure."_

* * *

"Fine, fine. Anyways, what'd you get from the scouting mission I gave you?"

"Bad news, I'm afraid. Four Heroes approaching at a fast pace. Two I couldn't identify, but the other two, if my eyes didn't play tricks… were Denning and Erik."

"What?! That morph and the son of Marquess Laus?!"

"I'm afraid so. The other two were different. One had a sword that really oozes out darkness from it, while the other was unarmed. But she had the weirdest-looking crown I've ever seen."

It wasn't long before Mark asked another question. "Was, by chance, her hair color gray?"

He nodded.

* * *

Okay! That's it for this chapter! Things get much more hectic from now. What'll happen next? Well, I'll think about it while I write.


	6. Chapter 5: Xander vs Original Tactician

Honestly, if I wasn't piled with so much work, I'd have more time to think about how the story is supposed to progress. But anyways, really sorry for the super late update. No, I ain't dead, just busy with so much work.

ALSO THE NEW RELEASE OF BOOK II LOOKS PROMISING.

* * *

"By the name of the Dusk Dragon…"

Xander could only watch from afar as Emblian Pegasus Knights fell from their steeds, a myriad of arrows clipping their wings as many fell to their deaths. Fire, thunder and wind resounded from the fortified entrance of the castle, along with screams of anguish.

"Make haste! We must reinforce our allies as soon as possible!"

Askr's smooth roads made travel less bothersome than it is, along with a pleasant view from her carriage, which Veronica appreciated. But apart from that, there was nothing else she liked about Askr.

 _You've nothing to fear, my beloved Veronica. I shall end this war, and with Askr's defeat, all the Heroes of every world will become yours._

But Veronica's father lied. He died in the war, stabbed through the heart by the ageing king of Askr amidst a field of corpses and death. Her mother betrayed her expectations, suing for an armistice with the Askrans, therefore signifying the end of the war. But to her, she's now a bedridden, senile fool who murdered her father's expectations for Embla.

Which was why the populace supported her coronation. They fervently supported the idea of a Second Askr-Embla war, the desire of vengeance running deep inside their blood. All she did was abide, for her sake and theirs.

Her thoughts, however, were interrupted by a putrid scent.

"Princess," the carriage driver's voice called out. "We are approaching the front lines."

From the royal carriage, she pulled the curtains to peek out. Corpses and death greeted her eyes, while the lingering scent of smoke and blood grew ever stronger, her nostrils wrinkling. She wasn't deterred in the slightest, however, head returning inside the carriage.

"Why is Embla's army so frail? Well, I guess we can use harsher training, like what daddy told me," she hummed.

"Besides, Xander can beat the Askr nobles. I'm sure of it."

"We've arrived."

Exiting the carriage, Veronica delicately stepped forward to view the castle, with Xander and his allies by her side. The fighting had ceased at this moment, the racket earlier ebbing away like the tide.

"I still cannot believe we were defeated this badly," she marveled, a finger on her pursed lips. Xander dismounted, bowing before her.

"Forgive my lack of discipline towards the troops, Princess Veronica. I shan't let this failure repeat after I finish training them."

"Yes, thank you very much, Xander. Now, what is that ragged figure I see running towards us?"

Lo and behold, it was everyone's favorite bandit leader, Batta, running back with axe at hand and pride shattered to tiny little pieces. Of course, being injured and exhausted from the earlier slaughterhouse, there was room for him to encounter some… accidents.

For example, tripping over a conspicuously placed branch right in the middle of the marbled path. With a troubled whoop and a crack muffled by his face, blood started to run down his lips and nose.

"Should we… help him," was Erik's unsure question.

"Well, I can't have a precious Hero all beaten up," Veronica smiled. "But there isn't a healer present among us, is there?"

While the three Heroes under Veronica's contract were discussing how to treat Batta's wounds, Batta himself was struggling to get to their location. One eye closed, blood dripping from a gash on his forehead, added with the fact that he ran for a good 20 minutes nonstop is enough to tire anyone out. His most recent… accident, didn't help in the slightest.

"I've…" he forced out, unbelievably close to Xander's detachment. "I've returned," he choked, before falling flat on his face again. Sadly, nobody really took attention.

But that day, there was a savior, in the form of the nameless chauffeur for Veronica's carriage.

"Um… Princess?"

"I believe a vulnerary may be enough for Batta's wounds, as they don't seem serious enough."

"Future Marquess Laus, we haven't had a full checkup on him. He's still a ways away, so how can you judge simply through your eyes?"

"This is a message from Lord Nergal. I await you on the Dread Isle."

"That's right, Denning. An elixir would be much better."

"Now hold on, an elixir is too wasteful! They're rare medicine and doesn't come by easily," Erik argued. "And how could you understand him, Prince Xander? He's incapable of saying any more than those words."

"This is a message from Lord Nergal. I await you on the Dread Isle."

"Watch your tongue, Future Marquess Laus! Denning has emotion too!"

"For St. Elimine's sake, he's a morph! They do not feel emotion!"

In the gist of their heated argument, Veronica was giggling madly at their immaturity, which was saying something when compared to herself. The chauffeur felt even more out-of-place amongst these powerful warriors.

"Excuse me, Princess Veronica?"

"Y-yes?"

"If I may intrude on milady's conversation, Batta the Beast has arrived."

The arguing trio and princess finally cocked their head to the injured Batta. With quick action, Xander was by his side, pouring the elixir (much to Erik's chagrin) over his wounds.

"Batta the Beast, how do you feel?"

"Like a Pegasus just landed on me." He then put on a rare display of deep thought.

"Oh wait, I think one did."

Silence from everyone around him. Xander soon coughed, trying to break everyone out of their surprised trance.

"Anyways, we should be on our way. We must defeat the Askrans here and now, before they regroup their forces."

"An excellent idea," Veronica chimed in. "But a battle in their territory could end up disastrous, similar to just now."

"We wouldn't need to."

"What do you mean by that, Future Marquess Laus?"

He pointed to the direction of Askr Castle, where a few silhouettes under the sun were approaching cautiously.

"Seems to be a scouting party of soldiers," Xander mused. "Stand back, Princess. We shall deal with them."

Little did they know this 'scouting party' weren't just your average soldiers.

* * *

"Come on, this way!"

"My word, Kiran! Have they never taught you how to speak to nobility?"

"Virion," he huffed through ragged breaths, "if the situation wasn't as dire, maybe I would put on a respectable demeanor. BUT WE'RE STILL UNDER ATTACK."

Mark knew that this war could end before it escalated into a drawn out battle. All he needed to do was find and subjugate the leader of this attack. Matthew's sightings on the ashen-haired princess was the catalyst that spurred Mark into action.

And yes, having the nobles of said kingdom go on a potentially dangerous mission to rid their lands of their enemies whilst being exposed to just about a hundred ways to die isn't the smartest idea.

" _Does it look like we have the time to dawdle," was Mark's fierce response towards those who objected: everyone under the service of Askr's royal family. "Askr cannot hold up against another siege! Unless you think staying holed up inside the castle is an ingenious plan, I suggest you don't stop me!"_

After that scene, Mark couldn't help but feel slightly embarrassed; after all, it's not every day you see the normally calm tactician screaming his head off. But those thoughts were dashed as exhaustion filled in.

* * *

" _What happened to the horses?"_

" _Ah, you must be Kiran, the Great Hero."_

 _He jumped slightly from the quavering voice behind him. Finding an old fellow dressed in a stableman's attire, he composed himself, fixing his already ruined cloak._

" _Y-yes, I am him."_

" _Huh. Your appearance belies your abilities."_

 _Mark was silent, rather impressed by the old man's deduction._

" _If you're searching for horses, I'm afraid they all died during the raid. I just finished moving their corpses into a burial site behind the castle."_

 _Now that Mark peered onto his leather overalls, dried blood was spattered around it, camouflaged with the already aged leather._

" _I see. Thank you for the information."_

 _He turned to leave. But for some reason, he could feel the piercing gaze of the stableman behind him._

* * *

"Kiran!"

"O-oh, yes?" Sharena's call snapped him out from his memories.

"Right there!"

Her finger led to a carriage that appeared really out of place amongst the Askran scenery; for starters, it was pitch black, with wheels carved from ebony hardwood and the carriage body lined with gold swirls and twists. On top of the carriage was an emblem he wasn't familiar with. But the Askran's hostile reactions did confirm his suspicions.

"An Emblian carriage," Alfonse shook his head, eyebrows furrowed.

"What could one be doing so far out?"

"Not sure, but there are people there so we should proceed with caution."

And caution was thrown in the wind when a dark beam shot out of nowhere.

Virion, in haste, drew an arrow out of his bow, aimed at the direction of the beam. The arrow parted with the bowstring, whistling upon the air before it evaporated. Everyone else brandished their weapon.

"Halt!"

The group, standing on the open plains, with a few walls around them, saw a knight. A knight of the highest pinnacle, holding a sword radiating a purple aura. The blade itself was black, with linings of gray around the black.

 _A bastard sword, coated in darkness._

Behind the knight were two faces that Mark noticed. In an instant, a threatened appearance replaced his exhausted expression. Meanwhile, the Askrans had their eyes on a different person.

"Princess Veronica! I will personally never forget this violation of my kingdom!"

"Oh, it's you," was her bored response, eyeing the Prince. "And after I went through all that trouble to arrange your playdate." But as her eyes went through the rest of the group, one caught her eye. "Now, who are YOU, stranger?"

"Before you say I look like a hobo, I'm not."

She promptly closed her mouth, then reopened it. "You have that silly relic. Then you must be the legendary summoner."

"Gee, I was wondering how long it'll take you to notice that, with it glowing and all…"

A vein popped from his sarcasm. She breathed out. "No matter. It simply means that you must be the first to die."

"Well duh. In what world would you not kill the head honcho first?"

 _This presumptuous man is truly a pain to deal with._

"Oh... Xander."

The knight, upon his ebon horse, stepped forward. His dark circlet was a direct contrast to his pale skin and blonde hair. Mark suddenly felt a twinge of jealously from this good-looking opponent. "You wish this one slain, Princess Veronica?"

"For St. Elimine's sake, are you deaf or something? She just said she wanted me dead first, or is too much earwax blocking her voice from reaching you? I swear people these days…" His rambling did nothing to stop the Emblians, yet they are getting rather annoyed.

"As you wish," he stated, completely ignoring Mark. He then fired another energy beam at the still rambling Mark.

"Wait, that sword is…" Alfonse's eyes widened when realization hits him. "No! She has Prince Xander, one of the most powerful Heroes from the World of Conquest!"

"Dear Alfonse, worry not," Virion placed a hand upon his shoulder. "The young knave should not be as powerful as you imagine him to be."

"I SHOULDN'T BE WORRIED? I SHOULD. HE SHOT A LASER BEAM AT ME."

"Don't worry. We'll protect you, Kiran," Sharena was by his side, her shield poised to block anymore energy beams.

"Get ready, everyone." Anna tried a rallying cry. "Let's show this rotten princess what the Order of Heroes can really do!"

And it worked.

"Sharena, we'll lure Xander in. The other two there, Erik and Denning, are problematic, but they're still manageable. Commander Anna, take Erik. Virion, you try and pin Denning down. Alfonse will stay as reserve."

They nodded, before squaring off against their respected opponents. Xander's charge was unobstructed, his blade only stopping from Sharena's shield, yet even Sharena winced from the pain of enduring the earlier strike.

 _So this is Siegfried's strength!_

A quick thrust was easily blocked by Xander's own shield, while Siegfried continuously pummeled on her shield. Her left arm began to lose strength, lowering it to the point where his blade could have pierced through her head cleanly if not for Alfonse's intervention.

"Prince Xander, your fight is with me now!"

"Very well, young prince," he bellowed, sword poised to strike. "Prepare yourself!"

Mark surveyed the field. Anna was doing just fine, pushing Erik to a corner with furious swings of her axe. His bulky armor was the only thing keeping him from falling. Denning himself, thankfully, was caught up avoiding Virion's near perfect shots, pinning him down from the other side.

 _Xander has to go, before we lose in terms of stamina._

He was pulled out of his thoughts when rainbow bubbles formed around his body. In alarm, he threw himself forward before it exploded. He turned back to find Princess Veronica, a tome in hand, her lips down-turned.

"Why'd you avoid that, summoner?"

 _Because I don't want to die,_ was his thought, some irritation in those words. But he had no more time to expand on those thoughts, as he fled towards Xander, running for his life.

"Don't run. Come play with me, summoner."

"HELL NO. STAY AWAY FROM ME!"

Alfonse, meanwhile, held his ground. Being on horseback provided Xander with an astounding advantage, his blade coming down harder from every successful strike.

"Give up, princeling. I loathe to shed more blood than necessary."

"Never! I will protect my kingdom with my life."

"So you aren't as different as I, young Prince," he mused silently. The dance of blades continued to ring across the field. But Alfonse was exerting too much: his swings were barely enough to deal any significant impact on the duel, and his parries were easily broken through.

Sharena charged, lance propped up, trying to dismount Xander. But his horse reared back, placing her lance out of range. Her futile thrusts were easily countered by Siegfried's massive swings.

"Sharena, step back!" Alfonse leapt forward, blade in hand, swiping down on Xander. Once again, Siegfried easily countered his attack.

He gazed at Sharena. She nodded. The two circled around Xander, weapons poised to strike at any moment. The prince simply stayed his ground.

But the encirclement was broken when Mark plowed through everyone, a face of panic apparent. Veronica was giving chase, eyes narrowed before she flung another attack. The glob encircled itself around him, and could've, in most cases, killed him if not for Alfonse throwing his own sword at her.

Fólkvangr missed her by mere inches. She stumbled back, plopped to the ground, her face a mix of shock and some fear. However, she quickly regained her composure.

Xander rushed to assist her.

 _The fatal mistake._

A spear thrust mortally wounded his horse, puncturing the leg, and Xander was sent tumbling down.

* * *

T"General Xander!"

But Erik's words were falling short as Anna's axe cracked through the armor, scarring his chest with a diagonal line. He let out a gurgled scream, as blood spurted out of his mouth.

"Curse you, Askran woman…"

As he fell, Erik faded away, back into whichever realm he came from.

Denning himself was in a bit of a pickle. "Now, I do so doubt that you can stand up to the magnificent Virion, but I implore you to try." Virion's arrows only missed by a margin, and Denning, being a morph, ignored the pain of having his shoulder and left thigh pierced by an arrow.

"This is a message from Lord Nergal. I await you on the Dread Isle."

"What in blazes could that mean," Virion muttered, contemplating those words. But as he avoided another arrow, a quick flick and eagle-eyed aim had his own arrow jut out of Denning's forehead. Similar to Erik, the morph faded into nothingness.

Even now, Veronica could easily see the grave situation she found herself in. "Xander, to me."

"Yes princess." The Nohrian prince was by her side, despite losing his steed. "I may be dismounted but I am still a capable fighter."

"We've no choice," she mumbled through gritted teeth. "We must retreat."

"As you wish."

"How dull. I'll go console myself back home with a cup of tea," she acquiesced, making her way to the carriage.

"That foolish princess is retreating with her Heroes!"

"Chase her, now!"

What the Askrans didn't know was that one person was missing from this entire battle. One person who was treated with an elixir before the battle, was not present until now, where he shall shine brighter than the morning star.

"YOU-"

A man broke out of the underbrush, a steel axe at hand.

"SHALL NOT-"

The man's bellowing was loud, and instilled fear to those who heard it.

"PASS-"

Batta the Beast, in all his glory, covering the retreat of Princess Veronica. The fear that was earlier instilled was displaced as fast as one would expect.

It would've made for quite the heroic spectacle too: a lone man, defending a princess from a horde of enemies with a lone axe at hand, fighting till his very last breath. Except two things were off: One, there wasn't a horde.

Two, a well-placed arrow planted itself on Batta's heart. He shouted the manliest cry he could, suffering a similar fate to both Erik and Denning. "Curse you girly, pompous archer!"

Virion only looked away. "Bloody bellend."

Mark was shaking; he had his fair share of close calls, but this one was the closest he'd ever come to ending a war fast. "Forget chasing them. They're much too far away, and we've got no horses to catch up with a carriage."

"The battle's won, but this didn't resolve a thing. The empire will invade again soon enough," Alfonse remarked, letting out his breath. His hands trembled as he was reminded of Xander's strength and skill.

But Sharena, despite also going against Xander, didn't seem to share his fear. "Stubborn girl. Why can't we just talk through this? These invasions are crazy." She dropped to the ground, lying face-up, eyes staring at the Askran sun. "Honestly, that Veronica needs to grow up already. Where's her sense of diplomacy?"

"She's a kid you know."

"She's not a kid anymore! Ugh, such a BRAT," was her response to Anna's reminder.

"Sharena, don't let your emotions get the best of you - not on duty. I expect you to keep a level head if you're going to serve in this order. Hostility is their way, not ours."

"Sure, sure..."

She then immediately retracted her statement after Anna sent a death glare into the mix. "I mean, of course, Commander Anna."

Alfonse turned to Mark. "I'm sorry that you've been thrown into this brutal war with us, Kiran. But I'm glad you're here - an official member of the Order of Heroes!"

Mark smiled. Then he stated two words.

"Wait, what?"

* * *

That's more or less everything for this chapter. Please, do leave a review if you enjoyed. After all, I do want to improve my writing abilities.

Also, props to you if you can guess who the stableman is :)


	7. Chapter 6: King Gustav of Askr

First off, I'd like to apologize for the ridiculously long hiatus. I know there are a few people looking forward to this fanfiction, and I have to say that I was busy enough for me to not have any actual time.

Yes, I actually had no time to continue this at all. Even now I still don't have time. But you know what? That's fine, because I really want to continue this story. The free time I have left is now at night, during 9-11pm, and I'll try to pump these out as much as possible as an apology.

* * *

Gustav remained atop his throne as the messenger's relayed the Askran victory to him. An elderly man, who's appearance greatly resembles a certain prince, curled a joyous, although suspicious smile.

"So my son has managed to repel the invaders of Embla."

The throne room itself was quite the grandiose location: covered in marble, large pillars with the image of heroes were sculpted into them. The floor itself was also made of marble, albeit it was paler than the pillars. A bright blue carpet rolled from the entrance, leading itself onto the center of the room, up the steps of the throne, where Gustav's arms locked themselves onto the armrest.

Gustav was not some noble of the Askran Kingdom; he was their king. Staunch and brave, the only reason he hadn't taken to the battlefield was the insistence of a certain spy, who's appearance was a carbon copy of a hero from the books in the castle's library.

 _King Gustav, I suggest you stay away from the battlefield at the moment. Once the Emblians catch the view of their most hated enemy, you'd be killed on sight._

As the king, he was already thinking about how foolish the idea was. But Gustav was a rational man, and he thought it over. It was good advice, and advice that may have turned the tides. For Gustav knew how dangerous a zealous, invigorated army could be.

"Pray tell how he has done so, despite not having a strategist."

The messenger himself was injured, clutching the side of his ribs. But none can deny the happiness evident in his eyes.

"A Great Hero has appeared! He was summoned by Commander Anna when the Emblians crossed the border, and his strategies was what led us to repel Embla!"

Surprise was written across king Gustav's face; never did he expect the hero to appear in Askr's time of need. But who was this hero? Was it the High Deliverer Robin? Maybe it was the Fateful Princess Corrin. Either way, the king remained deep in thought.

"Messenger, you may leave. Treat your wounds."

He bowed one last time, before exiting the throne room, limping away.

"Your majesty," one of his advisors started, but the king held up his hand. "Say no more. Bring my children, Commander Anna and this strategist here. I would like a word with them."

"Sir." A guard was sent to fetch them, with the advisor tailing behind him. But the king's somber silence as the noise disappeared was replaced with the worry of a parent in mere seconds.

 _How could I have allowed my children to risk their lives?_

 _What would my wife think of such a foolish act?_

 _Please, for the sake of Askr, let them be safe._

* * *

"Just because I decided to lend my assistance, doesn't mean I want to be part of your posse!"

Alfonse, who was confident that this _selfless, heroic_ summoner defended Askr due to the goodness of his heart, was taken aback. Sharena seemed as if she was about to faint, and Anna…

"Kiran, what do you mean you don't want to be part of the Order of Heroes?!"

"Commander Anna," he solemnly said, eyes dead serious, "I have been exposed to some of the most dangerous, life-threatening situations from where I came from. As much as I would love to protect another world and be hailed as a hero, I need a break."

"B-but Kiran, we need your strategies!" Sharena arose from her exaggerated fainting.

"I know, but I've seen many things in war back from where I came from. Besides, I need to know whether my own allies back home are alright."

"If that was what you worry for," Alfonse gave a smile of relief, "then you should worry not."

Mark's look of confusion was answered by Anna. "You see, when you summon a hero, such as yourself for example, your disappearance affects nothing in the original world."

With widened eyes, Mark's expression changed to one that begged for an explanation.

"When heroes are pulled out of a world, it is normally done so when there is a time of peace, or when a hero is deceased. By doing so, these heroes are automatically free of any tasks or needs they have. Furthermore, heroes are summoned when they are at their peak, rather than at their weakest."

"I see, that explains a lot. But I still won't join."

As the two continued to try and persuade the tactician, Mark's eyes now landed on Virion, who himself was busy admiring himself in a nearby lake. Maybe he wasn't right of mind, or the exhaustion was getting into him, for out of curiosity, he pointed Breidablik at Virion, and without warning, shot him.

A pale beam soon opened into a vortex, and Virion was sucked in, not before he let out a cry of "My gorgeous hair!"

"Kiran, what are you doing?!"

No response. Sharena was starting to panic.

"You killed him! You killed Virion!"

Mark had his whole body shaken by the princess, and despite her petite appearance, he felt his insides being mushed by the force of her shaking.

"I-I don't think he's dead."

"W-what do you mean?"

"He wasn't killed. I think he was simply moved to another location."

"And where would that location be?"

"I don't know, alright? I'm a poorly dressed, exhausted and starving tactician, and all my willpower is being drained right now trying to explain that the beam shot out of Breidablik shouldn't have killed. Now let me go!"

"I won't stop, not until you promise you'd do anything for me!"

"Yes, yes I promise!"

When she stopped, Mark stumbled down, and saw Sharena with a rather interesting smile that could only be described as devious.

"Stand up, Kiran. We shall discuss your entry to the Order of Heroes another time; it seems our ride back home is here."

Alfonse's arm slowly rose, his hands curled and a finger pointed in the direction of the castle, where a carriage was slowly making its way towards their location.

* * *

"My wife passed when Alfonse and Sharena were just children. Young children, who should not be allowed to see the unsightly view of their mother inside a coffin, despite how alive she may have looked."

"Care to explain how it happened?"

Gustav's fingers rapped the glass table, creating small, inaudible thuds as his other hand brings a cup of tea to his lips. Eyes downcast, he sipped the tea before putting it back down.

"It was a cold night. I was asleep with my wife in our bedchambers. Alfonse and Sharena themselves were in their own room, as it was tradition for the royal children of Askr to sleep separately, even at a young age."

His mind flashed back to the incident at that night.

"Three figures, cloaked, and all I knew was that they were armed. I was alerted by the noise of footsteps, and reacted too late. A knife was thrown. That night, my wife found a bleeding heart, and I found the hatred inside of my soul that I never knew existed."

He clenched his hand. The tea had stopped shaking when his fingers stopped.

"Soon after that, I slew the three assailants. I clutched my wife, but she has passed on to the afterlife. I will never forget the look of the children as they entered to find four dead bodies, and a father tainted by blood. Embla attacked by the crack of dawn."

"Ah, and I can guess that Askr must have been victorious?"

"I slew him, in all of my rage, for I expected my wife's death to come from his empire."

"But you could've been mistaken."

"Yet it would not have mattered. For he was the commander of the enemy forces. I can only show remorse for my actions once I learned that he himself had children."

"Worry not, your majesty, for your actions were needed, as they were one fit for a ruler."

"On another note, however," the king finally decided to take notice of his situation. "Why am I sharing my deepest feelings to you, Virion?"

The gentlemanly archer threw his head back, laughing amusedly. "Because I fell out of the sky, landed into the garden bush where you were enjoying your tea."

"Ah yes," he recalled that Virion had fell out of the sky unexpectedly. Although he was on guard, Virion delicately leaned his bow and quiver on a tree as he sat with the king to enjoy some tea.

Was it rude? Yes. Did Virion care? As much as he cared for Batta.

"How did you fall out of the sky though?"

"The Great Hero tested Breidablik on me, without my permission. Shot some form of beam that took me here."

At this, Gustav finally took some interest. Brows raised, eyes widened, he asked about this 'Great Hero' that repelled the invasion of Askr.

"Quite impressive, really, despite his appearance."

Before more questions could be pressed, a faithful servant had already found himself in the garden, bowing before the king.

"Your majesty, the crown prince and princess has arrived, along with Commander Anna and a hobo!"

"A hobo?"

Virion chuckled. "He must be talking about the Great Hero."

"Tell them to await me at the throne room."

"As you command, your majesty."

* * *

"So, this man in green robes…"

From his kneeling position, Mark's head snapped up, giving the steeliest gaze this tactician is not normally known for, and mouthed:

 _Not another word._

It was the greatest act of defiance the king has ever seen in his 50 years of life. It was interesting to see that the advisor was about to call him out on his rudeness to the king, but a hand stopped said advisor from speaking out further.

"I am glad to see the Order of Heroes, alive and whole. Commander, report."

"Your majesty, we have successfully repelled the Emblian Empire's invasion. No further casualties were found after the Great Hero's strategy to defend the castle."

After she finished, another man rushed into the castle. He kneeled next to Anna, and gave his own report.

"No villages or towns have been destroyed by the Emblians! However, a few ruins have been vandalized, yet no damage has come to the people. Our armies have driven the remaining Emblian-occupied towns and cities out the country."

"Joyful news. Please stand, Great Hero, and tell me your name."

Mark stood, dusted himself off once again, and bowed.

"Your majesty, I am known as Kiran the tactician."

"For your efforts, you will be instated as the commanding tactician of the Askran army, along with benefits to match the heroism you've shown today."

"Begging your pardon, your majesty, but I will have to refuse that offer."

"And why is that?"

Sharena bolted up from her kneeling position.

"Because Kiran has promised to become the Order of Heroes' tactician!"

"Wait, what?!"

Sharena only returned the same devious grin from before they returned to the castle. And suddenly, Mark felt himself regret making that promise.

"Err, yes! I have already decided to work with the independent Order of Heroes, so that we may be able to do our duties in a more efficient manner!"

The king only gazed at the tactician, who held his breath. His eyes, as Mark saw, could probably kill even the staunchest knight.

"Very well," he finally spoke, breaking the silence and allowing Mark to breathe again. "Mimir, my faithful advisor."

The man beside the throne circled to kneel down below the steps, amongst the Order of Heroes.

"You are to take Kiran to his quarters. Let him rest before they are to depart once again. The rest of you may leave as well."

"With your leave, milord."

The advisor, dressed in white robes with a neat, blue bonnet, gestured for the tactician to follow. The Order had also stood up, bowed, and left.

Now Gustav was alone again. Or that's what it should've been, if not for his sharper senses.

"The three heroes by the name of Virion, Matthew and Raigh, you may follow Mimir to find Kiran's quarters."

Auburn, blue and green hair appeared from one of the intricately designed pillars, following the advisor and the tactician.

* * *

"You don't look-"

"Do me a favor, and please stay silent. Everyone has been telling me how I look like a hobo."

Mimir only responded: "I was about to say that you don't look so much like a hobo."

"That was the nicest thing someone has told me today."

The rest of the walk was in silence. Or it should be in silence if Mark didn't whine about his exhaustion or his hunger. Mimir felt veins pop out of his temple, as he struggled to listen through the throng of complaints.

"The servants have already prepared food in your room. Please hold on a bit longer, Sir Kiran."

"Drop that sir thing now."

"As you wish."

"Kiran!"

The pair turned back to see three heroes running at him, in full speed.

"Ma-Kiran, are you okay?"

"Kiran, why didn't you tell me that there was a king here?!"

"Kiran, what if your portal damaged by appearance?!"

"Matthew, thank you for worrying about me. I'm exhausted and starving, but fine overall. Raigh, it should be natural that a king must rule over Askr. Although we may not have seen him, Alfonse shouldn't have been with the Order of Heroes if he is a king, as a king must lead his armies rather than a specialized division."

"What about me, Kiran!?"

"Oh yes, I nearly forgot. How'd you get here Virion?"

"Hmph! If you must know, I fell from the sky, a short distance in the palace gardens."

"Great. Then we can assume all heroes I transport back will land there."

Mark turned to Mimir.

"Sorry to be a bother, but I think I'll go to the rooms myself. Can you please tell the king that I require the seventh floor to be empty?"

Mimir had a confused expression.

"I'll be using that floor for all the heroes I'll summon."

"As you wish. I trust you know the way up?"

"Of course."

"By your leave, Kiran."

Mimir walked away from the group, thankful to be spared from any more complaints. As his shadow disappeared over a corner, Mark already walked towards the staircase.

"This will be our new rooms. Although the Order of Heroes have their own meeting location, this will be our living quarters, understand?"

The three nodded, as once again silence reigned over them as they made their way into the seventh floor.

* * *

The first thing Mark did when he arrived at his room, the one at the center of the hallway, was throw his dirtied clothes into the ground, dove for the table in the center of the room and stuffed his face with bread and cream soup. There was a change of clothes by the bed, along with a towel.

Once his hunger was satiated, he finally felt the need to look around his room.

It was large enough to host a wide bed, along with a few drawers and a large, round table in the middle of it all. A plant was left to decorate the corner of his room, while a window allowed some of the moonlight to wash into his room, despite lanterns that were already hung on the walls. A floor of cobblestone and a shelf for books were also provided.

"I never thought a room could look so relaxing," he wondered aloud.

Without wasting any time, his curiosity drove him to don a towel and head off to the bathroom. For a man who normally traveled around a country with tents and a group of people, the bathroom seemed almost like a sanctuary: it was golden in interior, with some white marble mixed in to give off a heavenly view. Near the walls, there was a bucket and a pail filled with water to wash oneself, along with a cubic object near the bucket. They were kept in rooms with a wooden door near it and no roof over these small rooms. A large, central pool filled with hot water emitted most of the steam.

"Ah, I see you're here too, Kiran."

Unsurprisingly, Virion was already inside, relaxing in the central pool.

"Do wash yourself in one of the rooms provided here. The box-like thing is called soap, and you use it to make yourself smell better. Once you finish, do join me and my magnificence!"

* * *

"So what do you need me here for, Mark?"

"Please," Mark groaned aloud, "call me Kiran. Someone might hear you."

"Ah, don't worry too much about it," Matthew waves it off. His clothes were the same, although he does smell fresh enough. Mark, however, had a new look, with a white robe with a cowl attached, lined with many gold strips around it. Beneath it was a blue tunic with long sleeves. His hands were covered by red gloves, and the brown boots were from his original tactician garb.

"I have to say, you look good in that. The bathroom is also quite wondrous place, don't you think so?"

"Yes yes, I know I look good, but I didn't call you here to discuss bathrooms."

"Then what," he asked, but when his eyes landed on Breidablik, Matthew immediately understood.

"You're going to try and summon another hero?"

Mark held, almost cradled, the relic, eyeing it with great care. "From what I've seen, Breidablik can summon about two more heroes. Here, take a look at the base where I hold it from." Mark showed Matthew the handle of Breidablik, where there were five slots, with three empty, and two more occupied by rainbow orbs.

"I see… so these orbs must allow you to summon heroes."

"Yes, that appears to be the case. However, I am not sure how to collect more of these orbs in order to summon more heroes."

"It's already quite late too, and I dread the consequence of waking any of the royals or the Commander up."

"We don't even know their rooms, Matthew."

"Oh yeah."

"Anyways," Mark trailed off, finally pointing Breidablik to an empty area in his room. "Let's see what other hero will show itself in front of us."

In an instant, as the trigger is pulled, a vortex appeared, and with it, another hero, one that's quite shocking to Mark.

"I can't believe it..."

* * *

Now who do you think Mark summoned?! Just take a guess, although I already know which character this is going to be. Also, for those of you unaware, Gustav is actually confirmed to be the name for both Alfonse and Sharena's father. This did surprise me so maybe the chapter isn't as well written as the others...

However, Mimir is a guaranteed OC. Sorry if this might, uh, sadden you that I have the need to put OCs.


	8. Chapter 7: Going against a Legend

Goodness gracious, I know updates have been slow but god help me all my deadlines are catching up. I'll keep on updating as best as I can, but don't expect too much. The story won't die, I assure you.

* * *

"Listen up, everyone. I've gotten word that the Emblian Empire has invaded the World of Mystery."

The Order of Heroes found themselves back on the council room of the southern tower, where their base of operations were located. Adorning this council room was the same color scheme that appeared everywhere else in the castle: gold and white. A grand, wooden table sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by similarly colored wooden chairs. More pottery could be found inside the council room, a few appearing to be not of this country. Light of the dawn filters through the windowless window sills, lighting the center of the meeting room.

Every member of the Order of Heroes was present, including the hesitant tactician. And in all that tranquility presented by the environment of a yet-to-be hectic discussion, Mark's voice appeared.

"What kind of name is World of Mystery?!"

"It's just a name, alright?!"

"No, no, it's been one week since I came to this world. I've had enough diligence within me to at least study in the library and there was no foreign world named the 'World of Mystery!'

"It's just another name for Archanea, stop being so petty."

"Tsk."

The tactician crossed his arm, irritated but not unreasonable. Under his breath, Alfonse could hear him mutter a few words, with 'World of Mystery' and 'illogical name' being the loudest.

"They're seizing control of its Heroes in hopes of using them to mount an attack on our kingdom."

"Tell us something we don't know!"

Luckily, Anna's nature as a saleswoman allowed her to take many different types of criticism and insults. Mark's one falls under the overused category.

Ignoring the sass, Anna continued in a grave voice.

"Unfortunately, they already possess one of that world's most important Heroes—Marth!"

The Order of Heroes wasn't just made out of the crown children and their commander. It was an actual order of 13 generals, heroes and leaders of Askr, including Mark. Needless to say, all thirteen had some sort of reaction, with the majority being shocked.

"The legendary Hero-King?!" Alfonse, usually a bundle of calm and understanding, had his face scrunched up, deep in thought. "If Marth leads a charge on the Askran Kingdom, it would be devastating."

"Marth Lowell, possibly the greatest Hero to have ever appeared…" Another voice appeared, this time from the Garrison Commander.

"How can we defeat such a threat to the kingdom?!" This time, a panicked outburst from one noble would've stirred everyone into a similar state.

Well, it would've, if not for a conspicuously loud yawn that seemed to insult all their worries for nothing.

"It really does spurn me to see these famous, powerful people from Askr bending their knee to the Hero-King even before his arrival to our lands."

"W-what?!"

"Look," Mark sighed, standing up from his chair, "the Hero-King is an amazing figure and all, but did any of you actually bothered reading the history part?" Their confused expressions was enough of an answer.

"Exactly. Try to understand that this Hero-King was capable of protecting his kingdom mostly due to his ability to rally his soldiers, bringing about an immeasurable strength when they fought for him. His strategies were nothing too impressive, and it is said that, if anything, he is a Hero-King for his deeds in battle rather than strategy."

"But the recovery of the World of Mystery-"

"First, you better call it Archanea or I will personally throw you off the tower."

The noble shakily nodded, lacking the bravery to challenge that claim.

"Second of all, he did excel in domestic strategy. He might be capable enough for war strategy but he excelled more in fighting and domestic issues of the United Kingdom of Archanea."

"What point are you trying to make..?"

"His point is," Sharena suddenly interjected, a great grin plastered all over her, "so what if they have a legend on their side? We have one too." Her finger pointed straight to the tactician. "Our summoner here!"

"Wait, I thought I was the tactician."

"Tactician is too low of a title for someone capable of summoning legendary heroes and leading us to victory! You're more of a summoner now!"

Mark blushed slightly. "Well, if you insist…" That blush brought about the masked ire and jealousy of a few members in the room.

"Anyways, let's go to Archanea and free their Heroes from Embla's control before things get out of hand." To this, everyone nodded simultaneously. "It's going to be a tough battle. All generals and heroes alike should mobilise what remains of the army to defend Askr. Other non-military leaders, please see to the recovery of Askr's economy and people's livelihoods. Dismissed!"

With a murmur of expectation, and maybe a few hushed swearing at Mark, the room was left with only the crown children, commander and summoner.

"I hope you're ready for this, Kiran."

"I've read up on every lord's history in the castle's extensive library, from their battles to their achievements. So far…"

Mark's eyes were shut, his right thumb and index cradling his chin. "Katarina, Roy, Innes, Soren, Micaiah and Robin are the greatest threats. Other's can easily be handled."

"I hope so. We'll meet at dusk in the bottom of the tower."

* * *

Leaving the room, Mark breathed out a sigh of exhaustion. A good week passed since he arrived in this world, and in that same week he had placed himself in a grueling regiment of studying the worlds, including Askr, eating, learning about the summoning of Heroes and trying to do so. Apparently, Breidablik's summoning of Heroes is random, and only occurs in certain times. Despite this, at the moment he's only had Matthew, Raigh, Virion, and the newest addition to the group.

Speaking of which, the newest addition of the group was running towards him, axe in hand.

"Mark, are we heading out today?"

"For St. Elimine's sake, Fargus, it's Kiran here!"

"My bad, Kiran."

"To answer your question, yes. We'll be heading towards Archanea today, not that you need to know where it is."

"Look Ma-, I mean Kiran, I know you might still be annoyed that I nearly revealed your identity on multiple occasions, but relax, nobody found out yet."

"Yet!"

His hand already covered his face. That night, a week ago, the pair of both Matthew and Mark saw the pirate Fargus appear before them when Mark pulled trigger. The pirate, clutching the paper left behind by Mark when he himself was summoned to Askr by Anna.

Perplexed? Yes. Concerned? Not really. For when Fargus saw Mark his sigh was one of relief, and his tense muscles relaxed.

Not once did he ask where he was, nor did he even doubt him, which to Mark was an amazing, if not incredibly stupid feat. The pirate, when realizing that he was in another world, simply shrugged it off, asking casually as if it wasn't such a shock to him.

"Askr, huh. Well, you'll have to give me a tour of the place so I know where all the important places in the castle are. Say, where is the sea?"

"I don't know."

"But you came here before I did, right?"

"Yes, and the moment I got here I already had to deal with a short invasion of the castle, so you can sort of understand that I am currently dead exhausted."

Mark pointed at the door.

"Leave my room, go find an empty one, and sleep. We can discuss this tomorrow."

So he did, along with Matthew, and the morning after that night was spent on discussion. Well, at least before Mark headed to the library.

"Look, I'll work on it alright, Mark? For now, I'm gonna go prepare for the immediate attack on Archanea."

"Please. And remember what I said, alright?"

"Yes yes, no looting and raiding within castle walls."

As the pirate happily sauntered away to the direction of the armory, Mark heaved out another sigh.

 _I'm starting to miss everyone back home._

Sure both Matthew and Fargus were now here with him, but despite their friendship he dearly missed three certain people from Elibe.

Mark vigourously shook his head.

 _Now is not the time. I've got to start preparing before we enter Archanea._

Without further delay, the summoner returned back to his quarters, preparing himself.

* * *

With a flick of the switch to Breidablik's left, Mark pulled the trigger, and a great portal opened before him.

"Wow Kiran, you didn't even need to say the continent's name!" Sharena gazed at the relic, before looking back to see that the location was indeed Archanea, a location she identified as a famous eastern fort in Talys.

"Apparently, the ancient books in the library mentioned that Breidablik is capable of reading its wielder's thoughts. I sought to try it during our free time, and it apparently works as stated."

"Shall we step through, then?" Anna grasped her own axe readily. Alfonse's blade, although in his scabbard, was also sharpened the night before. Sharena's lance was also prepared, although she had one more question after scanning the surroundings of the field close to the castle.

"Hey, aren't you going to bring any heroes?"

"Nope. I can summon them from Breidablik."

"But how? Even worse, what if they were asleep when you summon them?"

"Apparently, I can summon heroes so long as I think of their name. And I've tried it with Virion. From what I can tell," Mark looked down, carefully cradling Breidablik on one hand while the other grasped it's grip, "so long as I think of a location of where to send them back once they appear, then they won't get lost."

"The whole sleep issue, however, is unavoidable. As such, I created a shift for which heroes will be awake and which Heroes will be asleep."

"Wow, you really are a genius!"

"You're one to talk, Anna," Mark smoothly deflected the compliment back.

"Right, enough talk. Let's go free these Heroes from their contracts." Without any more delay, the crown children, along with their commander and summoner, stepped through the portal.

Without so much of a warning, the temperature shifted from the cool Askran dusk to a midday summer haze. The sun bore down mercilessly on the group, letting the heat strike their long, warm clothing.

"It sure is hot," Alfonse muttered, his sleeve wiping the sweat off his brow. Both Sharena and Anna were experiencing similar feelings. The last member, however…

"Huh. Reminds me of home."

Mark's mind started to wander away, back to the old Sacaean plains in Elibe. The gust of wind that arrived soon after served to fuel that nostalgia.

It seemed so long ago. That he found himself inside Lyn's home, waking up, guiding her against Batta, retaking Caelin with their new allies, guiding the future Marquess Lycia and Ostia into many harsh battles, their destinies all entwined with the very survival of Elibe.

"It may remind you of your home, but Talys has always been my second home."

The group turned to the portal. As it shrunk, a figure started to materialize. Slowly, one can see that this person was a bluenette, with a tiara nestled comfortably on the hair. Soon enough, the face became visible. A youthful young man, with piercing blue eyes and fair complexion. His torso came after the face, an ultramarine chestplate, with shoulder guards sticking out. As the portal disappeared completely, his tassets and leather boots finally made clear of who he was.

Especially the sword dangling from the scabbard, a red gem embedded deep in the cross-guard.

Sharena wanted to faint from shock. After all, she did love meeting Heroes, and this person was nothing short of the standard for a 'Hero.' The looks, the charisma, the smile that basically screams "You can trust me with all your heart."

 _Seeing him in the books was okay, but why in the name of St. Elimine does he have to look so goddamn handsome?!_

"I am Marth, Prince of Altea."

"We know."

Alfonse only gave Mark a look of surprise, something he's not often seen with. Then again, Mark's nonchalance to titles and grandeur never ceases to amaze, maybe insult, others.

"You must be with the Order of Heroes I've heard about. Princess Veronica told us about you. And I assume you know all about the contract that binds us to her?"

"Yes, we're aware. Heroes of a conquered world must obey their conqueror."

"Right you are, hooded man. But if you show us that you're more powerful than our conqueror, that will break the contract. That being said, we will battle our very best. Now, show us what you can do!"

Without warning, a sword cleaved through the air. Mark was the target, but Sharena's quick feet arrived just in time to cover his left. The sword slid from her shield, and the attacker swooped up.

"Caeda, be careful!"

"Don't worry, Marth! We're not finished yet!"

Simultaneously, a lancer came charging from the woods. Silver Lance in hand, he charged from behind, nearly impaling Mark. Once again, however, Anna managed to nullify the attack, her axe's flat side blocking the thrust.

"You underestimate me, Hero-King."

"Did I? I was told by Princess Veronica that I had to be very careful and strike fast."

Ignoring him, Mark aimed Breidablik at an empty area.

"Virion, shoot down that flier!"

Another portal soon materialized, and Virion, arrow drawn, released it. The arrow whizzed past the Pegasus' wing, barely rendering flight incapable.

"Caeda!"

"Keep your eyes on me, Hero-King!" Alfonse brought down his blade on Marth, who drew his own blade just in time.

A whirlwind of blades soon erupted, as feints, parries, thrusts and slashes came through from the two sides. A cut on Alfonse's cheek, a nick in Marth's chestplate, and other minor wounds from their exchange.

"Sharena, prevent Caeda from swooping into the field. Keep her at bay while Virion tries to shoot her down!"

"Prince Marth!"

The cavalier charged, his target now the Askran prince dueling against his own liege. But Anna's downward swipe forced his steed to rear back, nearly dropping him.

"Virion, the cavalier behind you!"

With a twirl unbefitting of the archer, an arrow loosens, and strike the cavalier's right shoulder. This time, he truly falls from his horse, wounded.

"Jagen!"

"Right here, Prince Marth!"

In the momentary distraction, Alfonse's diagonal slash hit its mark. The tip managed to cut through the armor as Marth quickly back stepped, Falchion's edge angled to prevent any further damage to his armor.

"Prince Marth, please, escape now!"

"But Jagen-"

"Like Frey, who allowed us to escape in Altea, it shall be my turn to save your life!"

The Hero-King, an ugly gash on his chestplate, fell silent, his blade still pointed at Alfonse, who was joined by Sharena.

"We can't leave you behind, Jagen!"

"Prince Marth!"

At that moment, Mark saw it. His weakness, the one thing he must abuse in order to have the Hero-King surrender.

"Well done. I expected as much from you. But our battles are far from over. The next time you see me, we will settle this once and for all."

Caeda, who was busy avoiding Virion's arrows, swooped down. With a hand outstretched, Marth latched on, and the pair flew off. More arrows could've been sent to attack them, but a certain man recklessly rushed his steed onto the battlefield, obstructing Virion.

"Gah! This senile old fool… is he trying to trample my clothes?!"

Jagen stood there, not as a cavalier, but as a foot soldier. His horse may have left his side, but that doesn't mean much when he's capable of fighting just as well.

"I am general Jagen of Altea! Come, and I shall defeat you all, damn my age!"

"For your sake, I suggest you just surrender."

Mark's voice was calm. He had four capable fighters, one of which can defeat the weakened Jagen and the other keeping him at bay with his arrows.

"Even if I wished to, I am bound by contract and my duty as a knight."

"Then, to adhere to your spirit as an Altean knight, I'll allow you to combat one of my soldiers."

Jagen remained silent.

"Anna, defeat him. But remember what I told you before this."

"Right, leave it to me, Kiran!"

With haste, her arm swung down, prompting Jagen to raise his lance to block. But the arrow wound started to gush blood, even with the arrow sealing the wound. He gritted his teeth, but Anna was faster. With her arms still strong, she forced Jagen back. With his heavy armor, he stumbled back, falling.

Anna's speed was unprecedented. Her left arm shot out, clenching the body of his lance. As her left arm lifted the lance slightly, her right arm swung Nóatún.

Without his lance guarding him, Nóatún would've cleanly beheaded the knight. But it stopped, touching only his neck.

Jagen had no words. But his body started to glow. It glowed a gentle gold light, before dissipating as soon as it appeared.

"Now, your contract is broken. You're no longer bonded to the contract."

"How…"

"Well…"

* * *

"Hey Anna, do we have to kill Heroes in order to free them from their contract?"

A cold, cloudy afternoon, Mark brought up the question when he found Anna selling some tarts to the soldiers of the castle. Anna shrugged.

"Didn't you free Minerva from the contract after the battle?"

"Yes, well… apparently I don't think I did."

"What?"

"There was no change like in Batta, Denning and Erik. They all glowed when I killed them, but Minerva didn't."

"I think she didn't actually lost. She admitted defeat, despite still being capable of fighting."

"I'm tempted to believe she surrendered only because Maria's life on the line," Anna answered, giving away an apple tart. "Maybe we have to put them to the blade."

Mark's face turned to his solution face, the one he makes when he's thinking of a solution to a hard problem. Suddenly, he felt a candle light up above his head.

"Let's try this tactic then," Mark started, bringing his face closer to Anna's ear.

* * *

"With your defeat, we've proven that Heroes can be freed when forced to surrender with their lives on the line."

"Then," Jagen, lying down on the field, sat back up, cross-legged. "I have already admitted defeat. These old bones can't take anymore, not with this wound."

"Then, Jagen," Mark knelt down, bringing out some bandages from a pocket inside his cloak. "I'll fix you right up. But you'll have to guide us through Archanea, alright?"

"Hm… so long as you use the same tactic to not kill my liege, then this old man shall assist your journey."

* * *

I REALLY WANT TO WRITE MORE, SO I WILL. FEAR NOT, I WILL WRITE A LONGER CHAPTER AFTER THIS!


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